


blueberry eyes

by kouje



Series: blueberry eyes [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternative Universe - K-Pop, Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Dog Appa (Avatar), Friends to Lovers, Gay Zuko (Avatar), Idiots in Love, Jet (Avatar) Is An Asshole, Long-Distance Friendship, Long-Distance Relationship, Lu Ten (Avatar) Lives, M/M, Mutual Pining, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Past Sokka/Suki (Avatar), Past Sokka/Yue (Avatar), Slow Burn, Zhao (Avatar) Is An Asshole, Zuko (Avatar) Gets a Hug, dog dad sokka, harvard student katara, hockey player sokka, kpop idol zuko, technically slowburn but i have no chill, this officially contains 0 conflict, this will contain appx 0 conflict, twitch streamer sokka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:07:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 79,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27536539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kouje/pseuds/kouje
Summary: he was an idol, he was a twitch streamer, can i make it any more obvious?(yes i can)zuko was a member of the international pop sensation soolong, and between travel and rehearsals and concerts and events, he rarely had free time. but when he did, zuko spent it watching livestreams of a mysterious hot boy who spenthistime playing video games.his name was sokka, and zuko was in love.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Bato/Hakoda (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Suki/Yue (Avatar)
Series: blueberry eyes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2049468
Comments: 2048
Kudos: 1078





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> what is UP my dudes! im back at it again with some self-indulgent bullshit that i dearly hope yall will also love. my friends and i have gotten extremely into bts lately and i have thought of nothing but idol zuko since then and i had to bring it to fruition somehow
> 
> i have to thank [nettlewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nettlewine/pseuds/nettlewine) for editing everything that i’ve ever written in my life, [hella1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella1975/pseuds/hella1975) for allowing me to use tomkin from the art is burning, and [muffinlance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance) for allowing me to use toklo from salvage (two of the best ocs from two of the best fics)!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here are some relatively important notes before we get into the real deal:  
> ✩ soolong is a play on so long + oolong bc where theres atla there’s tea, and is pronounced so long  
> ✩ the rest of the fic will n o t be written in this weird article style i have going on here - i wanted this chapter to function as more of an expositional prologue that would let me talk about soolong’s members and history in a way i won’t be able to in what i’m considering the actual fic  
> ✩ the actual fic will also focus more heavily on sokka and zuko rather than the group  
> ✩ i will occasionally link to outfit inspo or songs i’m thinking of in the end notes but don’t feel obligated to pay any attention to them lol. i just couldnt resist putting my pinterest boards to good use  
> ✩ i’m not at all qualified to “pick” actual tribes for sokka, toklo or tomkin, but i do want to make it clear that they are indigenous, and in t and t’s case they make deliberate efforts to involve their culture into their work but i won’t be specifying how in the slightest bc i don’t want to cross cultural boundaries. i will mention canonical cultural elements, esp stylistic ones like wolftails and hair beads, but i don’t want it to come across like i’m picking and choosing stuff from extremely diverse cultures lol  
> ✩ also: zuko does have the scar and it's a bountiful source of gossip and conspiracy theories and avoiding any and every question about it
> 
> aight that’s it for now. again, i want this to be a prologuesque insight to soolong and to the zuko who will be the awkward romantic international superstar we all need and deserve. i hope to churn out the first real chapter in the next couple of days, and i’ll figure out a semi-regular update schedule after that.
> 
> super excited to go feral with this one! hope you enjoy :)

Rolling Stone _(5 years ago)  
_ “Inside Soolong: A Day in the Life of the I-POP Stars”  
S.E. McCann

The screaming starts as soon as their charter plane begins to disembark, and is reinvigorated as someone catches a glimpse of one of the members in baggage claim. To a chorus of shrill hysteria, the five men walk through Galeão International Airport in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. They smile and wave to the surrounding crowd with practiced efficiency, slipping past a few hundred young women with ease, flanked by black-suited security staff and escorted to the white Escalade waiting for them nearby.

It is early October and Soolong is in the midst of a four-month-long stretch of their world tour. They arrived in Brazil for a string of high-profile TV and press appearances, to perform one of their hit songs at the BreakTudo Awards, and to hold six sold-out concerts over their ten-day stay in South America - all before heading north to the United States to begin all over again, with an even more packed schedule.

Group leader Lu Ten, 22, describes the drawn-out tour as “the lead up to the best nap ever,” but corrects himself after a stern look from one of the nearby public relations officials and describes it as “an incredible opportunity to bond with our international fans.” We’re in one of the smaller ballrooms of Soolong’s hotel when _Elle Brazil_ arrives for interviews and promotional shots for the upcoming issue. Tomkin, 17, hurries to meet them with seemingly-endless youthful energy, practicing newly-acquired Portugese greetings.

In addition to leader and lead vocalist Lu Ten and lead dancer Tomkin, the three other members are getting prepped for the photoshoot that will take place on the grand staircase in the ballroom. Zuko, 17, is stoic and serious as one of the many group stylists seals in his look with hairspray; the sub vocalist / sub dancer has been dressed in the red-and-gold of royalty for this elegant shoot, and looks quite similar to his older cousin Lu Ten - though Lu Ten is the one wearing the crown. Toklo, 19, is trying to make conversation with the woman touching up his makeup, though she keeps reminding him that he needs to hold still. Both the lead dancer / sub vocalist and Tomkin are dressed in the decorated blacks of a general, though the awards have been clearly modified to represent their current success on Brazilian charts rather than military prowess. The elegant, royalesque style of the shoot has been modified for the last member of Soolong. Jet, 18, is grinning toothily as he flirts with one of the hotel employees, a young woman who is gleefully taking photographs with her self-professed bias. Unlike his fellow idols, the lead vocalist is dressed as a commoner who rose to glory and joined the ranks of nobility, his worn leather jacket and scuffed Timberlands standing out against the princely silks and sashes. Soolong is accompanied by a huge entourage of thirty-five staff, with managers, public relations reps, interpreters, stylists, photographers, drivers, and quite a few security guards among their ranks.

Soolong debuted three years ago and was almost immediately met with stardom. After one year of rising through the ranks of Korean and Japanese pop groups, as well as the emerging genre of international pop groups, Soolong started topping the charts throughout the world, particularly here in Brazil and neighboring South American countries. After three years of intensive tours and heavily-publicized album releases, Soolong’s only competition is themselves. Every new release is met with hope that they will manage to outsell themselves - but their second album, _BE U_ (as well as the accompanying single of the same name), is still the all-time best selling group album in Japan, Korea, Brazil, and several other countries that have latched on to these young idols.

It’s no wonder that Soolong has amassed such a following. Not only are all five group members unique and charismatic, their work is targeted towards an audience that has historically attached to the feel-good romance of boy band hits - young women. Soolong’s fans appreciate their charming personalities, dedication to their work, and broadly personalizable songs.

After the _Elle Brazil_ photoshoot and a quickly-recorded, stock-answer interview about their tour experience so far, the boys go to prepare for tomorrow’s BreakTudo Awards performance in an adjoining room that has been transformed into a bare-bones studio for their stay. They’re all playful as they move around, waiting for the choreographer to call the start of rehearsal. Tomkin jumps on an obliging Lu Ten’s back, demanding and receiving a piggy-back ride, while Toklo walks beside them, pulling out his phone and sends off a few texts to family members, and takes a few selfies with the ballroom in the background for ZhaoWorks to post on Soolong’s social media. Behind them, Jet pulls Zuko into a headlock, messing up his carefully-styled hair with a noogie while Zuko yells in protest and tries to shove him away.

As soon as the choreographer claps to get their attention, however, the boys are all business. Like a well-oiled machine, they run through their “BE U” performance, first with just the dance, then adding basic chorus vocals, then adding the entire song as it will be performed. To an unfamiliar viewer, the first attempt seems perfect - as does the second, third, fourth, and fifth. But they refuse to stop rehearsing until they are sure that each member will step exactly where they need to step and hit every note that they need to hit. While the enjoyment in their expression fades into pure determination to get it right around the third run-through, their movements stay sharp, utterly in sync with one another. There are, however, a few missteps and vocal mistakes in the process; despite the fact that each mistake seems to mean starting over again, there is no visible resentment from other group members, with more pats on the back from Lu Ten than jabs to the ribs from Jet.

Like many music groups in East Asia, Soolong was engineered by an entertainment conglomerate. ZhaoWorks, one of the most successful management agencies in Japan, put Soolong through the famously rigorous J-POP system, wherein all five members lived together in a dorm-like building, trained constantly, and were molded into the idols they are today. After nearly six months in this intensive environment, Soolong was thrust readily into the spotlight, and fans ate them up.

After a couple more perfect run throughs of “BE U”, the boys retreat to their hotel rooms for an hour of rest before they are scheduled to leave for the _Luciana by Night_ filming, where they will be interviewed by the popular Brazilian talk show host, as well as perform a more recent hit, “ME + U = L.O.V.E.”. Lu Ten is the first to come downstairs when the hour is up, with Zuko, half-asleep, leaning heavily onto his side. Toklo and Tomkin join them minutes later, and Jet arrives nearly fifteen minutes late, followed by an irked manager.

We are met at the _Luciana_ studio by a deafening crowd of over one thousand Soolong fans, all screaming and vying for the group’s attention. Soolong’s security tries to herd the boys along towards the studio entrance, but once Toklo hears that many of the fans had been waiting outside in a drizzle for more than six hours, it seems impossible to move them away. Lu Ten, as quite a few fans know, carries a gold permanent marker with him at all times, and he makes good use of it here, autographing signs, water bottles, receipts - anything but skin.

“I signed someone’s arm one time, and it had to be the worst autograph I had ever done,” Lu Ten laughs, taking selfies with young fans as he talks. “She got it tattooed! I felt so bad. It made her happy, but I wish I had practiced my handwriting a little more beforehand.” Toklo, Tomkin and Jet appeared to not have the same hangups, signing everything that was put in front of them, including arms and, in one instance, a forehead. Lu Ten stops by to give her a teasingly-stern talking-to, asking her to not make Jet’s “messy scribble” permanent.

Zuko is the last to make his way to the studio entrance. He has stopped to talk to almost anyone who said his name, particularly the younger children in the crowd. Lu Ten later informed me that Zuko has the gentlest heart out of all of them when it comes to young ones, and always wants to put a smile on their face and a good memory in their head. After a few long moments of a solo Zuko signing, taking photos, and talking, Jet makes a show of grabbing his arm and dragging him through the door, much to the delight of the fans.

The studio seems silent after the mass of fans outside, though their screams are muffled but audible through the walls. Soolong seems to embrace the silence, with even the talkative Tomkin quietly sinking onto a chair in the green room after grabbing three mandarin oranges from a catering table. Lu Ten stretches across one of the plush sofas and throws his arm up to cover his eyes and catch a brief nap, allowing Zuko to shove his legs off sit at the end they vacated, and Zuko does not object when Lu Ten puts them over his lap instead. Toklo has been playing a game on his phone since we got inside, and he loads up a plate of fresh fruit and chocolate chip cookies before sitting on the vacant couch to resume it again. Jet sits on the other end, music playing through his earbuds at top volume. Though there are staff in the room with them, this seems to be a 'green room routine' that allows the idols to catch a few minutes to themselves before another few hours of being on top of their game.

When it’s time to head to the stage, a wave of screams erupts from fans in the audience. The crowd is wrangled into audience-appropriate silence during the interview portion, but the frantic shrieks and applause roll over the studio once more when they begin to perform the three-song set. When their performance ends, an exhausted Zuko sinks to the floor backstage just out of sight of the cameras and audience, chest heaving, eyes squeezed shut, gripping his own arms with brutal strength. This seems to be a commonplace ritual, too, judging by the look Jet shoots him from the wings. After thirty seconds, Zuko picks himself up, rushes to join his groupmates to thank the audience and host once more, and disappears with them back into the green room, finally ready to go home - or, at least, the hotel that will be their home for the next few days, until they move on to São Paulo.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Twitter _(4 years ago)_

Music Insider International  
@musicinsiderintl  
BREAKING NEWS: I-POP group Soolong announces split from ZhaoWorks - does not cite reasons for break, future of the group is uncertain.

Trending hashtag: #DONTSAYSOLONG

Twitter is Immortal  
@isawwhatyouposted  
Soolong’s Jet posted some incendiary things last night, deleted them less than two minutes later. No worries my dudes you know I saw what he posted :)

jet  
@jet  
fuck soolong seriously i dont give a shit. yall will follow me to hell and back i dont need them

jet  
@jet  
theyre destroying themselves leaving zw, it doesnt make any fucking sense. “cutting ties” jesus christ just cut off the rotting arm and be done with it

jet  
@jet  
you know who im talking about

jet  
@jet  
[Image description: Blurry photo of Soolong’s Zuko half-obscured by a man who’s kissing him against the wall. Doesn’t matter how blurry the pic is, we k n o w who tf that hair belongs to]  
*DELETED LESS THAN FIFTEEN SECONDS AFTER POSTING

jet  
@jet  
good fucking riddance, peace the fuck out, see them never. wasted 3 years of my life around those fuckers, wont make that mistake again. id never abandon the people who matter tho. YOU GUYS. thanks for being real

Twitter is Immortal  
@isawwhatyouposted  
jet’s follower count at 12:19 AM: 10,980,151  
jet’s follower count at 1:09 AM: 4,567,204  
feels good folks

LU TEN ☕  
@lutenofficial  
Thank you all for reaching out. We appreciate your concern for Soolong and the love you’ve poured out - it’s gone directly to our hearts. We will not be releasing details at this time, but just know we’re doing what’s best for us. It’s been a long time coming.

LU TEN ☕  
@lutenofficial  
We love you guys. Talk to you soon. xx

stop calling me little tom plsss  
@tomkin  
💕💕💕

stop calling me little tom plsss  
@tomkin  
LOVE UUUUUU it will be ok :)

Toklo  
@toklooff  
we love you more than life itself. #DONTSAYSOLONG we’ll try our best - for right now, it’s not goodbye, it’s see you later. thanks bbs.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Tiger Beat _(2 years ago)  
_ “Meet Soolong!”  
L. Moon

 **Lu Ten**  
Position: Leader, Lead Vocalist  
Birthday: September 15 (26)  
Zodiac Sign: Virgo  
Height: 6’2”  
Blood Type: O  
Favorite Colors: Red and blue  
Favorite Weather: Hot and sunny, especially on a beach B)  
Favorite Food: Bulgogi, beer, American-style burgers  
Favorite Hobbies: Writing, new instruments, watching war and nature documentaries  
Favorite Style: Slim fits and classic looks  
Lu Ten Facts:  
•Lu Ten was born in Tokyo (Aoyama) and moved to Seoul (Songpa-gu) when he was 13  
•He is an only child and his father is group manager Iroh. What’s better than that? Zuko is his little cousin!  
•Lu Ten has been writing songs since he was in grade school, and tries to write at least one song a week. Some of those songs make it to the final albums!  
•He is very good at string instruments, especially cello and viola  
•Before Soolong, Lu Ten wanted to be a lawyer. He went to Korea University Law School for one year before deciding to join Soolong. He ranked in the top 1% of his national high school exams. We are lucky to have him as Leader and not as Professor!  
•Lu Ten is the princely type of Soolong. Distinguished, smart, and with a charming smile for all of his fans!  
•Lu Ten is the leader for Soolong. This means he is often their spokesperson, and also the one the younger members look up to the most!  
Lu Ten’s ideal type: “Someone who is thoughtful and confident, and knows not to take any sh*t from my boys - or my dad! :)”

 **Toklo**  
Position: Sub Vocalist, Sub Dancer, Visual Artist  
Birthday: February 29 (24)  
Zodiac Sign: Aquarius   
Height: 5’11”  
Blood Type: AB  
Favorite Colors: Blue and grey  
Favorite Weather: Right before fall becomes winter and the air is crisp and cold  
Favorite Food: Steak and burgers and bacon and meat!  
Favorite Hobbies: Sailing, cooking for the other members, long naps   
Favorite Style: Comfy but modern  
Toklo Facts  
•Toklo was born in Vancouver Island, BC and moved to Seattle, WA when he was 5  
•He has an older sister and two nieces, and he also has Tomkin who is like a younger brother to him!  
•He grew up playing and dancing to drums. He still plays drums in his spare time - that’s when his member roommates break out their earplugs ;)  
•He only started singing when he was in high school, and we are glad he did!  
•He is the brotherly type of Soolong. He takes care of the other members and has their backs  
•As one of the visual artists for Soolong, Toklo brings a lot of ideas to life in MVs and photoshoots!  
Toklo’s ideal type: “Someone who can yell at me when I’m being stupid but also be my cheerleader. Being a good cook is a plus!”

 **Zuko**  
Position: Lead Vocalist, Sub Dancer, Sub Rapper, Visual Artist  
Birthday: August 03 (22)  
Zodiac Sign: Leo  
Height: 5’8”  
Blood Type: O  
Favorite Color: Black and gold  
Favorite Weather: Clear summer nights  
Favorite Food: Spicy  
Favorite Hobbies: Photography, writing, dancing, swords, piano  
Favorite Style: Dark, elegant, lots of accessories  
Zuko Facts  
•He is from Tokyo (Ayoama), and moved to Seoul (Songpa-gu) when he was 16 to be with his uncle Iroh and cousin Lu Ten  
•He has a younger sister  
•He has played string instruments since he was a toddler, just like his cousin Lu Ten! He claims he was never great at anything but piano, which he plays today! He features his piano playing heavily on his personal acoustic tracks  
•He was going to be a businessman but knew music was what he wanted to be from the time he was small!  
•He is the stoic type of Soolong. He is quiet, cool and shy but he opens up and smiles around people he loves! Including his fans!  
•Zuko and Toklo are the visual artists of the group and have a lot of input and ideas for MVs and photoshoots. Even the candid photos Zuko takes show an eye for style!  
Zuko’s ideal type: “I’m not looking for anyone right now.”

 **Tomkin**  
Position: Lead Dancer, Sub Vocalist  
Birthday: March 23 (22)  
Zodiac Sign: Aries  
Height: 5’9”  
Blood Type: B  
Favorite Colors: Most of them!  
Favorite Weather: When there’s a lot of snow on the ground but the sun is shining bright  
Favorite Food: Anything sweet :)  
Favorite Hobbies: Dancing, dancing, dancing, and video games  
Favorite Style: Colorful and cute  
Tomkin Facts  
•He was born in Seattle, WA and lived there until moving to Tokyo after joining Soolong  
•He and Toklo have known each other since middle school!  
•Tomkin is an only child, and sadly his parents died when he was 12. But Toklo and his parents took him in, and they have been brothers ever since!  
•Like Toklo, Tomkin grew up around traditional indigenous music and loved to dance to it. He started dancing to more and more music as he got older, and he just never stopped!  
•He talked Toklo into auditioning for the group with him! Without Tomkin’s fun insistence, we wouldn’t have either of them in the group today!  
•He is the sweet and charming type of the group! Tomkin is the best hype-man for all of the other members, and always has a joke, a laugh or a smile for everyone. He can also be serious and supportive, but he is always sweet  
•As the lead dancer of Soolong, Tomkin plays a big role in choreographing dances for MVs and performances, and helps the other members learn them perfectly  
Tomkin’s ideal type: “Someone who is happy, healthy, and never stops, just like me!”

 **Lee**  
Position: Lead Rapper, Sub Dancer, Sub Vocalist  
Birthday: May 02 (19)  
Zodiac Sign: Taurus  
Height: 5’7”  
Blood Type: AB+  
Favorite Colors: Neutrals and green  
Favorite Weather: Sunny Spring days  
Favorite Food: Mom’s schci and Dad’s bread  
Favorite Hobbies: Video games, cool cars  
Favorite Style: Practical street fashion  
Lee Facts  
•He is from a tiny village in Russia, and he moved to Beijing when he was 13 to pursue an entertainment career  
•He has one older brother named Sensu  
•In Moscow, Lee would go to underground rapping competitions with his brother, which inspired his love of rap!  
•One of our favorite things about Lee is the gap between his front teeth - but there are plenty of favorites we could say about the youngest member :)  
•He wanted to be a carpenter like his dad when he grew up until his mom told him he could be an entertainer - that’s when he started taking the music he loved very seriously!  
•Lee is the maknae of Soolong (the youngest member) and he is the little brother type through and through. Like Tomkin, Lee is very energetic and excitable, and throws himself into their work to make sure they give fans something they love  
•He can rap even faster than he can talk, and that’s pretty fast! As the lead rapper of Soolong, Lee has lots of tongue-tying rhymes to master on nearly every track. As a good little brother, he also offers support and backup wherever the band needs him to be!  
Lee’s ideal type: “Someone who would go on a roller coaster with me twenty times in a row!”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Vox _(1 year ago)  
_ "Sitting down with Soolong"  
Margot Li

Six years ago, the international pop group Soolong debuted and took the world by storm. Under the entertainment conglomerate ZhaoWorks of Tokyo, Japan, Soolong quickly became one of the biggest (as well as one of the first) I-POP groups, soaring up charts throughout East Asia and South America and amassing a loyal following of fans that ensured sold-out concerts from the beginning.

For the initial years of their career, Soolong maintained a clean reputation as a cliche but lovable boyband - easy to listen to, easy to embrace, and easy to market. While the details of their departure remain unknown, we know that after three years under ZhaoWorks management, Soolong broke from the company and disappeared from both the music charts and the public eye. After a one-year hiatus, the group returned to the mainstage under the new management of White Lotus of Seoul, South Korea. They were still the tight-knit talented group we knew under ZhaoWorks, but with two significant changes: Jet, the fan-favorite American “bad boy”, was gone, and Lee, the hyperactive Russian “younger brother”, debuted in his place. 

While some fans had moved on from Soolong during their year out of the limelight or abandoned them after Jet’s departure, their die-hard fan base quickly re-embraced them and new fans joined them in full-force. Under White Lotus, Soolong was able to flourish, and their growth is best seen in their shift to producing music that was notably more heartfelt and diverse than their past releases. With two members from Japan, one from Russia, one from the United States, and one from Canada, Soolong blended traditional elements of their individual cultures through music and iconography. They were no longer the cookie-cutter boyband archetype; they became something new, unpredictable, and thrilling.

We were able to sit down with Soolong’s Lu Ten, Toklo, Zuko, Tomkin, and Lee for an exclusive interview before their upcoming album release. While we can’t share the details with you yet, we can tell you that their new album features their names in track credits more often than not. All five members have taken advantage of the freedom that White Lotus provides to shape their own discography and career trajectory, and to genuinely celebrate the love they have for music, their fans, and one another.

 **Interviewer:** You’ve been popular for quite some time, topping charts internationally for a cumulative six years, but music outlets are reporting that you’re on the cusp of “blowing up” in the U.S. With all your new listeners in mind, could you tell me a little about yourselves?

 **Lu Ten:** Well, to begin with, we’re Soolong! I’m Lu Ten, I’m the leader of our group - because I’m the smartest, though, not because I’m the oldest _[laughs]_. I’ve been a member the longest, too, so I’ve known these guys the whole time. I’m a lead vocalist, along with Zuko over here, but they keep making me dance for some reason. Our fans seem to like it enough that I don’t kick up too much of a fuss, though. Uh—Tok, you next?

 **Toklo:** Sure, yeah. I’m Toklo. Zuko, your turn—

 **Lu Ten:** _[laughs]_ Be good, come on.

 **Toklo:** Fine, fine! I’m Toklo. I’m, uh, I’m one of the vocalists and dancers, but all of us are, really, so the special thing I do is concepts and visual work. Broad ideas for songs, or coming up with video aesthetics or styles, stuff like that. It’s really cool to see Soolong on North American charts, and to be recognized on the street _[laughs]_.

 **Tomkin:** We were all fooled into thinking he was shy before that happened, you know! We’d see someone from high school and he’d duck around a corner but now we have twenty people crowd around us and he’s _all_ smiles.

 **Toklo:** It’s different! I’m originally from the Vancouver area, so looking at our schedule and seeing BC Place there is _surreal,_ seriously.

 **Tomkin:** Skip Zuko real quick—

 **Zuko** : We’re not in a line, Tom, it’s not even skipping me.

 **Tomkin:** We _usually_ go oldest to youngest so it basically is, shut up. We’re talking to new listeners, right, especially new U.S. listeners?

 **Interviewer:** Right.

 **Tomkin:** Cool, so—what I want to say to them, to all of our U.S. listeners, is to pack Tacoma Dome to the brim. That would be the coolest fu—

 **Lu Te:** _Tomkin_.

 **Tomkin:** It’d be the coolest thing ever. We went to so many concerts and games and stuff there growing up, I want to beat every record they have. And I know our fans can help us do it!

 **Lee:** Say something that’s not about the arena, bro.

 **Tomkin:** I grew up with Toklo, and like he said, it’s really cool to see our numbers go up where we’re from. It’s the biggest thrill in the world. I hope new listeners will choose to keep listening and be a part of our worldwide family! Okay, Lee, don’t let Zuko go last.

 **Zuko:** Shut _up_. Uh. I’m Zuko. I’m a lead vocalist and visual artist, and I dance and provide backup rap when I need to.

 **Lee:** Oh my god, that is not all you’re going to say, no way.

 **Zuko:** Well—what? I mean, I hope you guys like our music and like what we do. Like Tomkin said, it’d be cool to have more fan-mily.

 **Lu Ten:** _[groans]_ No.

 **Toklo:** Vetoed! We vetoed that!

 **Tomkin:** I still like it!

 **Zuko:** They don’t like when I say fan-mily.

 **Interviewer:** _[laughs]_ I can tell. So last but not least?

 **Tomkin:** He _is_ least, he’s the shortest—

 **Lee:** The most important thing new listeners should know is that Tomkin _sucks_ and he’s horrible and don’t even try to like him because you’ll just hate him. And I’m from Russia.

 **Lu Ten:** Tomkin and Lee have been trying to get a rivalry going all year, ignore all that.

 **Lee:** I _am_ from Russia! I’m from Khabarovsk, and I moved to Beijing to train, then I auditioned for a Korean entertainment group and got accepted and then quit and got put with these stupid people.

 **Lu Ten:** He loves us.

 **Lee:** I didn’t say I didn’t love you, I said you were stupid. Anyway—I sing and dance, same as everyone else, but my big love is rapping. It’s poetry in motion, dancing with words, racing to say thoughts as fast as they come up—

 **Zuko:** He’s good at it.

 **Lee:** Zuko’s the least stupid of the lot, I’ll say I love him freely.

 **Zuko:** Thanks.

 **Toklo:** Such a bastard baby, you are, Lee.

 **Interviewer:** You’re all incredible lyricists, singers, and dancers—how did you build those skills and decide that music was your calling?

 **Lu Ten:** Well—I’ve always loved music. My parents would take me to listen to all kinds of it when I was growing up, and that was incredibly formative. It’s kind of a tradition in our family to learn to play at least two instruments, but I ended up learning, uh, piano, cello, luquin, viola—

 **Zuko:** Recorder, violin, xylophone, maracas—

 **Lu Ten:** _[laughs and ruffles Zuko’s hair as Zuko tries to duck away]_ I’m not counting _poorly learnt_ instruments, asshole. I stuck to cello and viola the most and I still play cello pretty regularly. I think string instruments are able to transform to fit so many moods and songs and stories, it’s incredible. But as for deciding that music is what I really wanted to do—my mom died when I was pretty young and I used music as a distraction from how rough that was for both me and my father. I became a lot more independent and started listening to even more kinds of music from all kinds of places and just fell in love with the idea that _I_ could contribute to the world like that.

 **Interviewer:** So right from the get-go?

 **Lu Ten** : Well—no, not quite. I knew I’d love to do that, but I decided to go into what was more of a _[finger quotes]_ suitable profession. I studied law for a year before moving back to Tokyo to join our former management. I remember being _so nervous_ to talk to my dad about it, but he looked at me like I was crazy for even thinking he’d be mad and told me something like ‘well, what are you waiting for?’. I made the jump and have never once regretted it.

 **Lee:** I’ve always loved music and entertainment, especially dancing, but I didn’t realize that was something I could do til I was almost a teenager. I come from a pretty poor town and there aren’t many things you can really _be_. When I told my mom I just wanted to be a carpenter like my dad, she asked why I didn’t want to go for something bigger, like becoming a musician. I still remember exactly how I felt when she said that. I was twelve and it was like my entire world exploded, I could have fainted. I got really lucky with that. Music is the best thing in the world to me and so many other people, but it really isn’t the most practical. But my parents were supportive and we moved to China so I could get real training in Beijing.

 **Toklo:** It’s kind of the same for me. And for Tom, if you don’t mind me speaking for you?

 **Tomkin:** Go for it, bud.

 **Toklo:** Yeah, it’s the same for us. It was a dream that seemed impossible, but we put in _work_ to make it happen for ourselves. Hours and hours and hours spent dancing and writing and singing and learning—we would have been happy with something local back then, I think, our tribal dance troupe is killer and there were some companies we auditioned for but didn’t get into.

 **Tomkin:** Thank god for that! I don’t even want to think about missing out on this, you know? If we had been accepted into another company or even another troupe, we might not have ended up here at all.

 **Toklo:** Right, yeah. We almost missed out anyway.

 **Interviewer:** You did?

 **Tomkin:** We did. I found a flyer for an international entertainment group audition and took it—

 **Toklo:** It _and_ every single other one he saw on his way home—

 **Tomkin:** And that. And I showed Toklo and had to drag him to come with me. I still don’t know why they picked us to become trainees, honestly. Doesn’t matter how many flyers I hid from people, the entire building they held the tryout in probably broke the fire codes, there were so many people there.

 **Toklo:** So many. _So_ many. I think it helped that we worked well together and it showed in our audition. They put us in separate groups a couple times but then they kept putting us back together, and I think being, like, a matching set worked in our favor.

 **Lu Ten:** What about you, Zukes?

 **Zuko:** God, don’t call me that. Uh. I never thought I would be able to. I always liked playing the piano and I was pretty good at it—

 **Lu Ten:** If playing piano was an Olympic event, he would have so much gold.

 **Zuko:** _Not_ true, I was good but I wasn’t—the greatest. Not nearly good enough to think I could make anything out of it. And I liked dancing and singing and everything, but I wasn’t great at that either. But—yeah, I mean, like they said, we all put in the hours. We put in the blood, sweat and tears, you know? It doesn’t come as naturally to me as it does to these guys, but I just—got lucky and got stuck with them.

 **Tomkin:** We’re not talking about how good _we_ are, bud. How did you know you even wanted to do music as a thing?

 **Zuko:** As a thing? Uh. I guess—I was kind of the same as Lu Ten. I saw how music could make you feel anything in the world and I wanted—I wanted to help people feel good. Or understood, or something, uh.

 **Lee:** Zuko was born to be an idol. No one can feel as much as him and not spread it around.

 **Zuko:** I don’t feel that much!

 **Lee:** And he’s so _handsome_!

 **Lu Ten:** You’re both stupid. But I agree, Zuko is the emotional powerhouse of our group. Our music would be nothing if he wasn’t there to fuel it.

 **Interviewer:** How did the five of you come together?

 **Lu Ten:** The same as a lot of music groups, especially in Japan and Korea. All of us—well, ha, except for _me_. I was invited to join ZhaoWorks entertainment group as a member for a yet-to-be-formed group. I had a family connection there, and they thought I was marketable enough to try out. But the boys had to go through a pretty rigorous audition process with talent scouts and coaches and—pretty much the idol equivalent to a sports combine.

 **Lee:** You’re losing the audience.

 **Lu Ten:** _[laughs]_ Well! You can’t deny that’s what it’s like.

 **Tomkin:** Like bootcamp, for sure. But in a studio full of hot people and you have to try really hard to be one of the hottest ones.

 **Toklo:** A _hot_ studio too. I couldn’t tell if I wanted to pass out from heat stroke or nerves or what.

 **Lee:** Both for me.

 **Zuko:** It sucked. The whole process. But then—you’d think of quitting but then you’d see your biggest dream _just_ out of reach, so you’d reinvest all over again. I said blood, sweat and tears and I meant it. I definitely experienced all of those a _lot_ during the audition. And as a trainee, too, for sure.

 **Lu Ten:** Zuko and I got put in the group together first, and thank god for that. It was exhausting for me, but then Zuko walked in like a half-drowned, sad, angry kitten—

 **Zuko:** Hey!

 **Lu Ten:** So what could I do but stay and take care of him? The producers who were running the training camp were also organizing the groups and making cuts and additions and whatever. I think they liked that we looked alike, and that we already had a dynamic that lends well to an idol group, very big-little-brother.

 **Zuko:** I didn’t even know Lu Ten was there, honestly. Being put in a group with him made me work even harder. He’s my only cousin and I was desperate to impress him back then.

 **Tomkin:** _[snorts]_ Back then?

 **Lu Ten:** I was, what, nineteen, almost twenty? Zuko was barely old enough to even audition, just thirteen at the time. Even if it was the worst, most tiring experience I had ever had, I was determined to push through so I could help him out. We cycled through a couple people, boys and girls since they weren’t sure if they were going to make it a co-ed group or not, then we were landed with those two idiots.

 **Tomkin:** I had a crush on Lu Ten, like, immediately.

 **Toklo:** That’s absolutely the type of thing you’re supposed to never say out loud and yet you say it _every time_ it could possibly come up—

 **Tomkin:** It was funny! It’s still funny.

 **Lu Ten:** _[laughs]_ It was obvious and it should be extremely embarrassing for you. Maybe that’s what did it, huh? The four of us worked fantastically together.

 **Lee:** Plus—

 **Lu Ten:** The four of us. So—ha, to sum it up, we got lumped together because management thought we made a good team after a lot of trial and error.

 **Interviewer:** Right. So—you worked for three years with ZhaoWorks, one of the largest music conglomerates in Japan. Why did you decide to make a change? What has switching record labels changed for your group?

 **Zuko:** A lot.

 **Lu Ten:** Big time. It changed everything.

 **Toklo:** All for the better.

 **Zuko:** There were a million reasons that we wanted to—move on from ZhaoWorks. We didn’t feel able to grow there, as a group or as individual artists. They had us running through the same old routine of like, the most generic pop songs, focused on complete marketability above all else. We had the most fans we had ever had, concerts were always sold out, we were breaking records left and right, but—

 **Toklo:** They wanted to split us up.

 **Lu Ten:** That was one of about eight million last straws but—it was a big one. And—

 **Zuko:** Yeah. And, uh. And they wanted me to—Lu, could—?

 **Lu Ten:** They didn’t want Zuko to come out.

 **Zuko:** Yeah. That. They didn’t want me to be openly gay, ever. Uh. That conversation went really bad for me, and when they said they were removing me from the group—

 **Tomkin:** We walked.

 **Lu Ten:** Thankfully, I had some great lawyer friends who were able to get us out of our contracts with as little pain as possible, and we had decided that there was no way in hell we would stop being who were together, no way we’d break up, and uh—

 **Zuko:** Uncle Iroh stepped in.

 **Lu Ten:** _[laughs]_ Dad stepped in. He owns a chain of cafes and some shops and _also_ the most popular IPOP band out there. It’s fantastic.

 **Lee:** And he brought me on board, so obviously he has a great management style.

 **Tomkin:** And with White Lotus, we have complete control over what we produce, top to bottom, start to finish. We’re able to work on solo projects if we want to, decide which sponsorships we want to take, write our own lyrics that mean something to us—or even work on stuff that doesn’t mean anything at all just for the good vibes, you know?

 **Lee:** Yeah, and we can say ‘fuck’ if we want to.

 **Lu Ten:** _Lee_ , come on.

 **Lee:** My contract specifically states no one can stop me from saying ‘fuck’.

 **Interviewer:** How has your style evolved as you’ve worked together? Has your success changed the way you write your music at all, knowing it’s for a global audience?

 **Lu Ten:** As you can probably guess, we weren’t able to evolve much under ZhaoWorks. We knew each other better than anyone in the world and we got along really well, so that showed in the work that we put out there. But there wasn’t too much actual professional development and growth that happened under their management.

 **Zuko:** Now that we have more freedom and can do things we want to do, it’s changed a lot. There’s a lot more, uh—different—dancing?

 **Tomkin:** He means we can be sexier.

 **Zuko:** Jesus, Tomkin. Yeah, uh, there’s a lot more sexual energy or whatever, and we can write about real shit that we’ve been through. We’ve been able to incorporate a lot of ourselves into our music, even when it’s something all five of us are working on.

 **Lee:** I joined under White Lotus so I don’t have a comparison I can personally draw between then and now, but it really is cool what we’re able to put into just one song. In an MV, you know, those four minutes or whatever, we can have Lu Ten playing cello in the background and me screaming about farm life and Zuko doing a sword dance and Tomkin doing classical ballet and Toklo throwing money at him—

 **Interviewer:** Is that, uh—Is that a hint about your new album?

 **Lu Ten:** No. Genuinely no. Don’t worry.

 **Lee:** _[laughs]_ I just mean we can do whatever we want to do and so far we haven’t had an idea bad enough for anyone to stop us.

 **Toklo:** And that kind of freedom has definitely changed the way we work, from the way we can perform on tour to those very first stages of writing a song. When you don’t know what’s possible, there’s nothing stopping you from dreaming bigger and better.

 **Zuko:** This might not sound the way I intend it to, but—I think that, in a way, we _aren’t_ thinking about having a global audience when we’re working on new material. We have so much that we can do and—I think we’re doing as much of it for ourselves as we are for the loyal fans who have stuck with us, and for the new fan-mily that—

 **Toklo:** I swear to god—

 **Lu Ten:** I agree. We work on things that are meaningful to us and to our experiences, and we hope that those meanings—or just the vibes of the song, or the chorus or MV or whatever—speak to some of you out there.

 **Interviewer:** Okay, the last thing I’d like to ask - in a few words, what messages do you hope people take from your music?

 **Lu Ten:** We have a lot of music with a lot of messages, but I think all of us have something we want to impress on listeners overall. In a few words for me? Uh, the joy of life, and living it exactly how you want to.

 **Toklo:** That you can take on anything as long as you lay down a hard enough beat.

 **Zuko:** Hope and healing.

 **Tomkin:** Oh, easy. Happiness and love.

 **Lee:** They took the good ones! I guess my message would be that it’s important to live without fear even if there’s fear all around you, and to find happiness where sometimes there seems like there’s none. And that you can overcome anything—

 **Lu Ten:** A _few words_ , Lee!

 **Lee:** Okay, geeze! Being proud and brave.

 **Interviewer:** That’s all I have for today. I can’t wait to hear what you boys have in store.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Rolling Stone _(now)_  
“Soolong’s Return: A New Day in the Life of the I-POP Stars”  
S.E. McCann

Since Soolong’s debut eight years ago, it seems at first glance like nothing has changed. Their tour bus is met in New York City by a crowd of over two thousand fans screaming, chanting the group members’ names, and trying their hardest to catch a brief glimpse of international idols. This is not an unusual sight for the young men who step off the bus, looking stylish and put together despite the hours of travel and long consecutive days spent on tour. Their emergence sparks an even louder wave of shrieks from the massive crowd.

Though they are met with the same loud enthusiasm that they were nearly a decade ago (though it was louder), by the same huge numbers (though there are now even more), by the same demographic (though even that has expanded beyond teenage girls), they react much differently than they did around their debut, allowing fans to see that their enthusiasm and love is matched by the group themselves. Though he is no longer the youngest member, Tomkin, 22, greets the crowd with energetic jumps, waving his arms over his head and chanting the group members’ names along with them. The new maknae (the youngest member of the group) Lee, 19, joins him, punching the air and doing martial arts-like kicks for the flashing cameras. If the exhausting nights spent on a tour bus after exhausting days of performances, interviews, and signings have affected them, it’s impossible to tell at that moment.

Toklo, 24, makes sure that the fans on the other side of the bus behind the crowd control barriers receive some attention, as well. He jots an autograph on a few items shoved his way, takes selfies with beaming groups of people, and even defends a young girl who was brave enough to lean over the gate enough to kiss his cheek, disallowing security to take her away. Lu Ten, 26, and Zuko, 22, are the last to exit the bus, and they are met with a somehow louder wave of screams from the crowd. Lu Ten grins in greeting and covers Zuko’s ears teasingly, joking with fans to “be careful, he’s sensitive!” Zuko scowls and sticks his tongue out at Lu Ten before breaking free and going to greet a couple screaming his name near the front of the barrier - the two young women hold hands and cry as he talks to them quietly, signing a poster and leaning to give them a hug. This sparks yet another rolling wave of overjoyed screams from the surrounding fans. Even when the attention of the group members is not directed at other fans, it seems that their charms are impossible to resist and inspire a shared experience that makes them love Soolong even more.

At the beginning of their career, Soolong would perform to a crowd of this size, roughly two thousand people in small venues around East Asia. Tonight, they will stand in Madison Square Garden and put on what will be hailed as one of their best concerts ever to a sold-out crowd of over twenty-thousand people. This stop, as well as the second Madison Square Garden performance that will be held tomorrow (and the vast majority of stops in their worldwide tour), sold out in the first minute of tickets going on sale, setting new records - of course, the only records that they beat were their own.

The group has been moving up the coast rapidly, making one day stops in every major city from Miami to NYC. They will take a three-day break in NYC before continuing the North American branch of the ICARUS World Tour, weaving their way through the northeast territories of Canada before flying to the west coast to make their way by bus from Vancouver to San Diego, then by plane to a few cities in Mexico. It is a grueling six-month-long tour - six months spent constantly on the go, putting on their show faces, being away from their home in Seoul.

“I admit that it’s rough,” Zuko tells me later, wrapped up in a thick blanket he takes on every tour. The group is granted a welcome reprieve from their beds on the tour bus, and have been relocated to a lush three-bedroom suite of a hotel near The Garden. Tomkin and Lu Ten have been swept off for an interview, and Toklo and Lee are attempting an undercover walk around the area (with a pack of security staff in tow). Zuko has been pardoned from pre-concert events to allow him to decompress and mentally prepare for the night ahead, but he does his due diligence while we talk and drafts out a few social media posts about how excited they are for the upcoming show. “It’s rough, but it’s worth it. It’s an incredible privilege to be able to see our fans in person across the world, to see—and _hear_ —their support and make sure they know we support them in turn. Our dream has always been to make a positive impact on people’s lives. If being on tour for a couple months makes that happen, it’s worth it.”

It is early September and Soolong is nearing the end of their world tour - while they’re only halfway through the North American route, there is just one month, one weeks, and three days until they are scheduled to fly back to South Korea. They’ve been on tour for four and a half months. Sometimes even a week away from home is too much for me.

When asked about the intense tour schedule, Lu Ten says that it was the group’s decision more than it was their management company White Lotus'. “We want to see as many people as possible, to perform as much as possible, to bring joy to as many of our fans as possible. As much as I hate to admit it, we’re—well, _I_ am getting older, and one day I won’t be able to go this hard, no matter how much I want to. We’re all able and willing and wanting to do this. It _is_ hard, but, like Zuko said earlier, it’s completely worth it to us.”

The energy of Madison Square Gardens is indescribable. Twenty thousand fans filled the indoor arena, but it seems that twenty-thousand more are waiting outside, eager to be a part of the audience even though they won't be able to see the group perform in person. The Garden set out jumbotrons and speakers so that their loyal fans who had not been able to snag tickets would still be able to experience it live. This is largely due to Soolong’s insistence that they shouldn’t enforce a paywall that would keep the vast majority of fans from being able to find a place in the community.

Lee was one of the biggest proponents of this, and managed to work a policy into all of their tour venue contracts that, if the venue was at all able to do so, they would provide a way for fans outside of the arena to be able to watch and listen. “It’s not like ticket sales drop when that kind of stuff is provided,” Lee tells me as Soolong is getting ready backstage. “We still sell out entire arenas - and if they had eight times as much seating, I bet we’d still sell out. Letting people who weren’t able to get pricey tickets still be a part of the concert is nothing but good. I grew up dirt-poor in Russia. We didn’t have any concerts like this to go to unless we traveled twenty hours away to Moscow or flew down to Beijing, and even if we did, we wouldn’t have been able to afford it. Music has always been my life, you know? Even when my family and I had next to nothing. I can’t imagine how insane it would have been to be outside, able to watch and listen to the artists I obsessed over as a kid, without dishing out twenty-five thousand rubles.”

“It’s one of the reasons we release recorded concerts,” Toklo adds as a stylist applies his eyeliner. “It lets us take down bootlegged copies if we need to, but it also lets people experience or _re_ -experience the whole thing without needing to travel or pay big bucks to see our dumb mugs. Live concerts are about the experience, anyway. Why should we keep anyone from having it?” Considering that their former management company ZhaoWorks was nefarious for suing young fans for posting even small clips of concerts online, this is a much more open point of view than they were previously able to employ.

Their booming public presence is not the only thing that has changed since their move from ZhaoWorks to White Lotus. Most notably, their music has transformed - it has become much more heartfelt and emotional, with all of the members contributing to group productions, and a few of them taking advantage of the newfound ability to found and produce under their own individual labels. Their personalities have been allowed to shine through in a way that the confinement of ZhaoWorks’ management style hadn’t allowed, reaching beyond the happy-go-lucky, perpetually-romantic personas that had previously been employed. They are no longer held to restrictive styling policies, either, and it is never more evident than the first act of the night.

The arena is plunged into darkness as Soolong takes the stage, with the audience only allowed to see their outlines as they take their places in a line, side by side, stretching across the stage. The roar of the crowd is deafening. The screams of the outside fans are a loud backing track to those of fans inside the arena, and the arena is lit only by venue-provided light-sticks and the sparkling flashes of phone cameras light. Somehow, the screams grow even louder as the first boom of the music starts, Soolong’s silhouettes shifting into position.

As soon as the stage lights shine, the group starts to perform “Icarus Rising,” the song that has begun each concert this tour. They are impeccably and individually dressed in outfits of their own creation, not the matching pastels or prep-esque fashions that they had been put in in the past. Lu Ten radiates “princely” in his sparkling black military-style jacket, decorated gold patterns and cuffs glinting in the spotlight. Toklo’s self-described “space cowboy” jacket throws off a much different vibe, black leather decorated with excessive shiny silver fringe and rhinestones. In the middle of the lineup, Zuko throws the vibe for another loop with the green bomber-style jacket intricately embroidered with flying gold dragons. Tomkin wears a comfy fur-hooded anorak and acts as if the spotlights don’t throw off a good one-hundred degrees. At the end of the line, Lee stands proudly in a classic Canadian tuxedo, light blue denim head to ankle. In the dressing room about ten minutes earlier, I witnessed an exasperated Lu Ten settle an argument between Tomkin and Lee about who got to wear the well-loved denim jacket that seemed to have no original owner, and I have no doubt that Tomkin will be wearing it at the start of tomorrow’s performance.

As the song progresses, they shed their jackets and reveal much more coordinated outfits underneath, though the white shirts have individual embellishments and differences, and their self-chosen shoes still reflect the vastly different personalities from the beginning of the song. Each song throughout the concert had its own outfit, and each members’ perfectly complement the others while still engaging in individuality. Each song also seemed to have its own routine for the crowd, as well. The fans seemed to have well-known rituals, with the names of each member chanted in a certain order in between verses of some songs, and certain lyrics sung as a huge choir (in Russian, Japanese _and_ English, as smoothly as if each was the audience’s native language) in others.

The attendees of tonight’s concert were given quite a few special treats, as well; Zuko performed one of his solo songs, accompanying himself on the piano, Lee showcased his quick tongue and quick wit through a previously-unheard extended rap in one of their most famous songs, and Toklo taught the audience to say “Lu Ten is our father” in his and Tomkin’s native language, much to the dismay of a blushing Lu Ten who kept frantically shaking his head. They ended the three-hour concert on a high note, with fans singing along to an upbeat track that spoke clearly of Soolong’s love for their fans, their music, and one another. Even if I hadn’t been a fan before, this live performance of “Euphrosyne” would have converted me with ease.

The boys ran backstage as soon as the metaphorical curtain fell, the stage lights shutting off and arena lights coming back on. Exhaustion is clear on all of their faces, as well as their bodies - Zuko flops onto a sofa in the wings, and Tomkin immediately flops directly on top of Zuko, who lets out a loud “oof.” Not a minute later Lee joins them, making a heavy-limbed three-man stack. Lu Ten and Toklo remain standing and get dressed unselfconsciously, stripping off their stage clothes and changing into something more appropriate for chilly NYC travel.

It’s just past midnight when we arrive back at the hotel that will be Soolong’s home for the next three days. Even after such a long night and a draining, spectacular performance, all of them stop outside of the building to sign things for the group of waiting fans, to accept hugs and offer selfies as they slowly but steadily make their way towards the guarded elevator that will bring them to their ultimate goal: _bed_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> biggest thanks in the world to hella1975 and muffinlance for letting me play with tomkin and toklo! two of my favorite ocs from two of my favorite fics ugh i cry
> 
> chapter inspo (all from the last rolling stones article):  
> ✩ [lu ten's outfit](https://0.soompi.io/wp-content/uploads/2019/01/06104544/Jhope-LYT-Militar-540x811.jpg)  
> ✩ [toklo's outfit](https://0.soompi.io/wp-content/uploads/2019/01/06104512/J-Hope-Space-Cowboy.jpg)  
> ✩ [zuko's outfit](https://img0.etsystatic.com/074/0/11159920/il_fullxfull.825424890_iykv.jpg)  
> ✩ euphrosyne is just [mikrokosmos](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LXOJk2PFKgY&ab_channel=Jaeguchi)  
> ✩ the newest album title and song names are based on greek and roman mythology but that isn't the permanent theme of the group or anything, they just release groups of content that tend to be themed / inspired / etc
> 
> im deliberately not using years because they stress me out, but i wanted to give yall a more clear / consecutive soolong timeline:  
> ✩ soolong formed under zhaoworks: lu ten (19), toklo (17), jet (15), zuko (14), tomkin (14)  
> ✩ soolong leaves zhaoworks after three years and takes a year long hiatus  
> ✩ soolong redebuts under white lotus: lu ten (23), toklo (21), zuko (19), tomkin (19), lee (16)  
> ✩ at the start of the actual fic: lu ten (26), toklo (24), zuko (22), tomkin (22), lee (19, never fuckin learned how to read)


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what is UP you gorgeous beauts! time to move on to actual "storytelling" and "plot" or whatever, get hype
> 
> title has changed from turn my history into memory to blueberry eyes bc it's is the only thing ive been listening to and is the vibe i hope to bring to the sokka/zuko table with this fic (eventually)
> 
> also: i swear to god i dont intend for there to be t h a t much dog content after this
> 
> see end notes for credit / links / deets / etc
> 
> LOVE YOU GUYS hope you enjoy!

Tomkin, above all else, was a nuisance. It didn’t matter how long they had been on the six-bed tour bus (nearly _five months_ ), he had boundless energy and a desperate need for constant entertainment and skin-to-skin contact. Perhaps because Lu Ten, Toklo, and Lee all gave in to him easily, Zuko was his favorite target to seek it from, nudging at his boundaries with doe-like eyes and a hopeful smile. He was a nuisance who knew _just_ how to get him to give in, at any rate, which is how he ended up pressed against Zuko’s side in his bunk during the four-hour trip from Washington to Portland, scritching Zuko’s hair with one hand and holding his phone between them with the other.

Last night’s concert had been one of the best this run; it went off without a technical hitch, no voices had cracked, no ankles had twisted, only a few pairs of underwear had been thrown on stage (and promptly disposed of by arena staff), and it was, all in all, a great night. As hometown boys, Toklo and Tomkin had brought the Seattle crowd’s energy to a roaring height, and, as hometown boys, Toklo and Tomkin refused to leave the energy behind and decided to drag the other group members around, guiding them through the nightlife in Fremont. It apparently didn’t matter that they had left the States before they could even begin to think of legally indulging in any sort of nightlife; with Toklo at seventeen and Tomkin at fourteen, they claimed it was their joint right as youths who had survived the endless rainy months to take advantage of the action. 

It had been a long time since any of them had gone out, so it didn’t take much convincing. Lee, still nineteen and unable to indulge, was put in charge of Lu Ten, which was enough of a job that Lee didn’t feel too left out. It was a great concert and a great night, but that didn’t keep the morning from being the _worst_ , with all but Lee suffering with varying degrees of hangovers. Lu Ten got them the worst, and muttered vague threats about disturbing him as they loaded onto the tour bus, and had started snoring almost the second he had closed the privacy curtain around his bunk. Toklo had the same idea and claimed one of the little booth tables for a sitting-up nap, hotel coffee in front of him. Lee took the seat opposite so he could steal Toklo's coffee as soon as he fell asleep while playing Minecraft on his phone. 

Besides the temptation of having his hair played with, Tomkin had won Zuko over by saying he felt _homesick_ \- not for the Seattle that they were leaving, but the Korea that now felt like home. If they were in Seoul, all of them would be at the annual fireworks festival, watching the night sky light up in the chilly October air. Tomkin, bless him, had _known_ how much Zuko loved the festival, and had wrangled up a livestream so they could watch the grand finale on the tiny screen. 

Considering how frustratingly early they had to leave that morning, it was no surprise when he felt Tomkin’s breathing shift as he fell asleep, catching his phone before it could drop as Tomkin’s hand went lax. He didn’t bother trying to get him to move to his own bunk, just stretched out beside him and plucked the earbud from Tomkin’s ear. He was about to exit out of the Twitch in favor of a Netflix documentary when a stream caught his eye: just a simple walkthrough of his favorite neighborhood in Seoul from that morning, when it had been light and fresh outside. He couldn’t resist clicking on it, and felt softly transported as he watched, the streamer holding the camera steady and letting the viewer be the one on the walk. There was a similar video suggested under that one, of a tranquil little village in Scotland, and then of a coastal town in Kenya, and then - he fell down a livestream rabbit hole.

He somehow ended up on a livestream called Gotcha Day!, watching a humane society stream adopted animals going home. It was a stream made for Zuko’s soft, sleepy heart, and he watched with misty eyes as the new pet parents talked about what kind of life the formerly neglected animals would have from that day forward - a quiet sunset life for an elderly woman with an elderly cat (both named Maude, and Human Maude said she would _not_ be changing that), a farm life for a rambunctious blue heeler named Hyena, and— _oh_. The best life _ever_ for a massive black mutt who would not stop jumping into the arms of one of the most gorgeous men Zuko had ever seen.

“This is Puck,” the man told the camera, grinning proudly and showing off his perfect teeth. “I’ve been coming up to see him for a couple weeks, since he needs a lot of care and attention and I wanted to make sure I’d be able to provide. But _today_ —” he looked down at Puck and found himself with an armful of dog again. He had to weigh at least sixty pounds, but the man held him up with muscular arms, pressing a kiss to his head. “Today he’s coming home with me. He’s gonna live a life of luxury with dog parks and steak tartar and so many uncles and aunties who are gonna _dote_ on him.”

Puck woofs in agreement, deep and resonant. One of the humane society staff off to the side hands him a leash to hook onto the collar and the man accepts it with a grin, glancing at the camera. “Oh, what is this? I got too pumped about Puck to ask.” He listened to her off-camera answer before beaming and turning back to the stream. “Hell yeah! Follow me at boomsokkasokka for more Puck content!”

Zuko’s not sure if it’s a joke or not, but he sees muscular arms with tattoos just visible under his shirt sleeve, a few piercings in his ears, a Helen of Troy grin, and so he searches his username as soon as he goes off screen to be replaced by young twins squabbling over who gets to show off their new bunny first. At this point, they had an hour left before they’d arrive at their Portland hotel for an exhausting half-day of being shuffled around to media appointments and a more exhausting (worth it) night of a sold-out concert. Zuko yawned widely, subscribed, and took a nap.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Sokka had been over the moon all day, _obviously_. He woke up at the crack of dawn, unable to sleep as soon as the sun came through his window. The humane society wouldn’t be open for another two hours, and it was only a half-hour drive to get there, but it was only the awful thought of waking Katara up before she had told him to that held him back. He had been waiting for this day forever, really and truly. They had never been able to have pets, growing up - their mother had been allergic to cats and their dad had been allergic to dogs and both of their parents had claimed an allergy to whatever other pet that they had suggested. Hamsters? Out. Snakes? _Nope_. Elephants? So sorry. (His mom didn’t even need to claim an allergy for that one, but she did anyway. It was one of his favorite memories of Kya, one that he now smiled about as he got dressed.)

But now? He was an adult, in his own apartment, with only his non-allergic self and non-allergic sister’s non-existent-allergies to consider. After spending so much time around her boyfriend Aang and his gigantic bison of a dog, Appa, she had been convinced to so benevolently allow one of Sokka’s biggest dreams to come true. _Puck_ was coming home today. He woke Katara up fifteen minutes before he was supposed to, but he made her an omelette to make up for it. Her glare didn’t stick around too long, anyway; his radiant smile chased it away.

They drove to the shelter just outside of Boston, and in another moment of sisterly indulgence, Katara allowed him to blast his Pump-Up Skate Jamz playlist the whole way. He felt like he was going to a game, anyway - he was getting a _dog_. Way better than any game. (Maybe he wouldn’t be saying that if he played for something other than beer league, but then again, maybe he would.) Paperwork finalized and approved, all he had to do was the final step of taking Puck home, and he wasn’t the only excited one - as soon as Puck saw him, he turned into nothing but a massive black blur flying across the fenced yard, launching himself at Sokka and forcing him to the ground with all four huge and heavy paws on his chest, raining down slobbery, joyful kisses.

Sokka would die for him.

He took him inside to gather the toys and meds that he and Puck would be taking home, and, even without a leash, Puck was plastered to his side the whole way. Even when Katara tempted his attention with a treat; he gave her the quickest bit of adoration before bounding right back over to his _dad_. Sokka swore he would never be one of those, but resolve was for wimps and cowards who didn’t have Puck’s big baby browns watching him with evident love. When one of the staff asked if he wanted to talk about Puck’s new home on stream for a second, he leapt at the chance.

“This is Puck,” Sokka grinned, giving Puck’s ear some good scritches. “I’ve been coming up to see him for a couple weeks, since he needs a lot of care and attention and I wanted to make sure I’d be able to provide.” Puck _did_ need care and attention — he had several permanent health problems as a result of his past owners’ lack of attention, and required some behavioral classes to help him manage fear and aggression. Both the humane society and Sokka wanted to make sure it was something he would be able to handle to give Puck the absolute best life ever. “But _today_ —” he said, looking down at Puck. Puck met his eyes and in a flash Sokka found himself with a heavy armful of happy, tail-wagging dog. He couldn’t resist giving him a firm kiss right on his forehead. “Today he’s coming home with me. He’s gonna live a life of luxury with dog parks and steak tartar and so many aunties and uncles who are gonna _dote_ on him.”

Sokka cracks up when Puck woofs with impeccable timing. He accepts Puck’s leash from a staff member and scruffs Puck’s chin again. “Oh, what is this? I got too pumped about Puck to ask.”

The staff member grins. “It’s a promotional thing. We’re streaming adoptions live on Twitch to try to get some traction.”

Sokka beams and turns back to the stream, looking at the camera more intentionally. “Hell yeah! Follow me on boomsokkasokka for more Puck content!”

Katara rolls her eyes but is grinning, and knocks elbows him once he steps out of the room. “Guess that’s it, then,” she says as the receptionist tells them goodbye. “We have a dog now.”

Sokka could shriek with joy. “We have a dog now!”

Puck reacts to his excitement by bouncing in a tight circle and standing with his paws on Sokka’s shoulders again. Sokka peppers his sweet face in kisses and ushers him in the car to go home.

They spent the day slowly acclimating Puck to his new home: a Cambridge apartment that is larger than it could be, funded by Katara’s cushy scholarship and Sokka’s not-so-cushy-but-enjoyable Boston coffee shop job, located close enough to a bus station that Katara could get to her Harvard Law classes and internship without needing to drive, but far enough from any campus that they wouldn’t feel the need to strangle a college student every other weekend. It had the additional bonus of being close to _two_ dog parks, which Sokka planned on taking full advantage of.

Near the end of the night, Sokka made good on his word for more Puck content and went live on Twitch as he encouraged Puck to hang out on the couch with him.

“He wasn’t allowed on furniture in his last house,” Sokka told the stream, keeping his tone even and casual. Puck’s chin was resting on his knee, and his soulful eyes were watching for any indication that even thinking about being on the couch was a bad dog idea. Sokka pulled his hand back to pat the cushion beside him again before going back in for more scritches. “I know it’s a thing a lot of people do, and it wasn’t the worst thing they did by far—but a dog’s whole life is in the space you give it. I can leave whenever I want and go wherever I want, I can travel the world if I want to. Minus, you know, money, but you guys know what I mean. But he can’t. He lives where I put him, and I’m not gonna take the comfiest ten square feet in the whole apartment away from him.”

Puck nudges his knee and moves slowly, putting one giant paw on the cushion. Sokka pats the couch again and looks at the camera like he’s trying to not explode with joy. His ninety-two viewers are feeling the same, judging by the long strings of exclamation points in the chat. Sokka glances at Puck as he puts a second paw on the cushion, like he’s attempting a slow motion jump. Sokka smiles as softly as he can manage, offering gentle encouragement. “C’mon, buddy, it’s okay. I wanna show you the joys of couch life.”

Puck crawls up, nervous and so, so brave, and Sokka has to hold himself back from hugging him tight. “Good boy,” he coos, scritching his head as Puck’s tail thumps against the cushion. It thumps harder when Sokka finds a good spot on his neck, and he falls bodily over, huge head taking up a joyful Sokka’s laugh. “ _Good boy_ —”

He talks sweet nonsense at his favorite boy in the whole world for a while after, and carefully maneuvers his paw to wave bye to the camera when he decides to end the stream. He ended up with a few new followers today, and even a couple subscribers. Between that and the tacos they got for lunch and _Puck_ , this had been the best day in a long while.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Across the country, a phone pinged in a dressing room. The room was empty, but even if it wasn’t, it wasn’t likely anyone would be able to hear the notification over the sound of nineteen-thousand screaming fans and the booming music of Soolong rolling through Portland’s Moda Center. 

Twitch - 4 hours ago  
boomsokkasokka is live: PUCK TIME PUCK TIME PUCK TIME. Swipe to watch now.

Twitch - now  
boomsokkasokka was live: PUCK TIME PUCK TIME PUCK TIME. Swipe to watch the video.

Across the country, a phone’s tinny speakers played Instagram stories by some of Sokka’s friends from back in the PNW. _Lucky bastards_ , he thought, though there was no real fire behind it. He listened to Puck snore on the pillow beside him, following a solid hour of convincing him that being on the bed was okay. He sighed and exited the app, turned on his alarms, plugged his phone in, and spooned around the giant beast who had laid claim to his bed. _One day, I’ll see Soolong in person. Major hype shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ updates will likely be on sundays and wednesdays, though i might not stick to that super strictly  
> ✩ ty once again [nettlewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nettlewine/pseuds/nettlewine) for editing everything ive ever written since 2006 and also yall should read her [kent parson fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27145456/chapters/66291979)  
> ✩ the pump up skate jamz playlist is also kate nettlewine’s and is one of our top road trip go to’s [check it out](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4qThPG9SAR4K6hiXnb8u6R?si=XcAb7oNWSKm8eeJYlx_4Lw)  
> ✩ tomkin belongs to [hella1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella1975/pseuds/hella1975) and toklo belongs to [muffinlance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance) and by heart belongs to both of them  
> ✩ [this is puck](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/a9/4c/58/a94c58901abea0a7728616e0ec291eea.jpg)  
> ✩ my geographical knowledge comes from me growing up in kentucky, loving boston, and now living in seattle lol


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey remember how i said i was gonna post updates on wednesdays and sundays? i should have accounted for me wilding out at work when i have nothing to do, happy monday!

As they neared the end of the North American tour, exhaustion seemed to settle deep into Soolong’s bones. While this tour was _half_ as intense as the tours when they were with ZhaoWorks, they were still a lot to handle, tiring and stressful, with plenty of fuel for breaking points. Those points manifested differently in each member—Lu Ten glared at the source of any too-loud sound, Lee took snore-heavy naps at any given opportunity, Toklo ( _somehow_ ) got too competitive playing Disney Tsum Tsums, Tomkin sulked in the booth with music blasting in his ears, and Zuko tended to _snap_ , brash and angry. 

He hated that about himself. His reaction to stress _disappointed_ his groupmates, and it sometimes made Tomkin get all closed-off, on edge, and _scared._ That was the worst. Zuko knew he had a bad experience in a foster home before Toklo’s family was approved to take him in. Zuko knew plenty about bad experiences. He had gotten close to snapping that morning when his coffee sloshed over the side of his mug as the bus went over a bump on the highway. Something so small felt so big when he was _so_ tired. He looked at the small puddle on the table, looked at Tomkin in front of him, with his eyes closed and music barely audible from his headphones. With his best friend in his heart and his uncle’s voice in his mind, he went to his bunk, closed the curtains, and turned on fucking bird sounds.

He didn’t even _like_ birds, really, but Uncle Iroh had been really nice and made him a relaxation playlist. 

“It is good after a long day to relax and commune with nature,” their manager had said with a serene smile. He had seen Zuko snap and slam the studio door, and had seen Lu Ten roll his eyes and Tomkin jump and Lee and Toklo ignore him completely. Unlike Zhao, their former manager, Iroh did not jerk Zuko to the side to give a biting threat, but gently led him with a hand on his elbow to his cozy office, making him a cup of calming chamomile tea with understanding eyes and gentle hands. The guilt had made Zuko feel sick to his stomach.

“What nature?” Zuko scoffed quietly. He didn’t like tea, but he sipped it anyway. “I can’t just take a walk in the park whenever I get mad. And we’re about to go on tour, what do you want me to do? Make them stop the bus?”

Iroh had given him a considering tilt of the head before nodding once, determined. “I will make you something to listen to, and you can close your eyes and pretend.”

He sounded so sincere and convinced of its magical effectiveness that Zuko kept trying it out, hoping to achieve the tranquility Iroh seemed to exude for just one minute. He never managed to ‘meditate,’ necessarily, but trying to do so kept him in a quiet space and gave him enough time alone to calm down and regain a level head (enough to give Tomkin a whispered “sorry” and to receive the immediate forgiving hug without tensing up). That didn’t mean bird sounds didn’t suck.

A notification pinged in his ears, loud and startling interrupting the jungle rain. Aggravation twinged in Zuko’s chest as he opened his eyes with the rash intention of deleting whatever app had just yelled at him.

Twitch - _now  
_ boomsokkasokka is live: GOTTACATCHEMALL. Swipe to watch now.

It took an embarrassingly short amount of time to remember why he was getting that notification. It had been over a week ago, but he remembered seeing muscles-tattoos-teeth (plus dog) and remembered his impulsive want to see more almost immediately. Whatever boomsokkasokka was up to seemed ten times better than listening to parakeets, so, of course, he swiped.

The stream loaded to reveal a nostalgic delight—he was playing Pokemon Ruby on an emulator, one of Zuko’s favorite games from his childhood (the only game he’d ever _played_ in his childhood). Lu Ten used to let him play on his console when he visited, both of them hiding away in Lu Ten’s bedroom to avoid the sneers and snark of their grandfather and Zuko's father Ozai. The stream also revealed a delight that held no nostalgia. The man from the adoption stream was even more beautiful than Zuko remembered, even with his stupid gamer headset and worn Star Wars t-shirt (maybe _because_ of the shirt that fit comfortably snug against his chest with a few holes conveniently revealing dark ink underneath). He took up half of the screen, the current battle against a wild Magikarp on the other half.

It was fate, Zuko thought. He had always related to Magikarp; floundering through his childhood and the early years of Soolong as he tried to evolve into a Gyrados. He was meant to tune in. (Let it be known: smart as he was, Zuko was a fucking idiot.)

There were eighty-two viewers and a good handful of them seemed to be active in the chat, but that was apparently not enough for boomsokkasokka to not notice a new person popping on. He glanced at the monitor and grinned.

“Hey! Sozz080397, thanks for tuning in to Mudkip Hour!” He was beautiful and gorgeous and had the nicest teeth Zuko had ever seen and he had just said Zuko’s name (technically) and it was _too much_. In a panic, he closed the app.

In a stronger panic, he quickly reopened it.

Muscles-Tattoo-Teeth (Plus Dog) was still in the middle of frowning, saying “—should stop scaring people, huh, guys?” when sozz080397 rejoined, and he interrupted himself with a charming laugh. “Sorry for spooking you, bud, welcome back.”

Zuko’s cheeks were still burning, even the tip of his nose felt like it was tingling from embarrassment, but he didn’t close out again. Instead, he laid down and propped his phone against the wall of his bunk, watching a beautiful boy play a children’s game and feeling more relaxed than any bird chirp had ever made him. He didn’t realize how long he had been watching until Lu Ten tapped outside his bunk with a quiet “Knock, knock.”

Suddenly flustered and feeling caught in the act, Zuko closed Twitch and locked his phone, not wanting Lu Ten to see his new fascination. “Uh—yeah?”

Lu Ten pulled back the curtain and squinted at him suspiciously, obviously praying that he hadn’t caught his cousin in a much more compromising position. “We’re about to have the Dinner Conversation. You have any preferences?”

Zuko always had preferences. He slid out of bed and left his phone behind.

Zuko’s preferences were outweighed. 

“Zuko, my dude, babe,” Lee had argued, “We’re in Mexico for _two more days_ before we go back to a place with approximately zero authentic Mexican restaurants for another six months, I want us to be so sick of it we don’t even notice.” 

He pouted over his empanadas instead of the pad thai he had been craving and silently crafted a list of recently acquired information in his mind. Muscles-Tattoos-Teeth (Plus Dog) was named Sokka, judging by the people in the chat who addressed him with enviable familiarity. His dog seemed to love him as much as Sokka loved Puck, and had wormed his way into Sokka’s arms to act as a sixty-pound lapdog, and Sokka had just hugged him indulgently and peppered his head with kisses and wiped the slobber from Puck’s returned kisses with a grin. Though it was not necessarily new information, it was important to note that Sokka was _charming_. He had the best voice for storytelling and a barking laugh and sharp canines that would show up in Zuko’s dreams. There was nothing particularly special about the stream (other than it was Zuko’s first, and aren’t firsts always memorable?), but it was enough for Zuko to know that, without a doubt, he would answer the next notification like a siren call.

“Oi, oi,” Tomkin said, pointing a churro at him. Zuko took an obliging bite with a hum of thanks. “You’re thinking.”

“Some of us can.”

Tomkin rolled his eyes and took his own bite, cinnamon sticking to his lips. He talked with his mouth full with the sole purpose of making Lu Ten’s eye twitch. “You good?”

Zuko felt simultaneously touched and embarrassed; they all looked at him with genuine concern, wanting him to _be_ okay and not just to see vulnerability. Lee, especially, looked at him with earnest eyes as he waited for his answer. Lee had replaced _him_ and _he_ would have never cared about Zuko being “good” for anything other than wanting to know if there were any weak spots that would hurt more than usual if they were pressed. Zuko visibly relaxed at Lee’s expression, face still baby-round even though he would bite anyone who suggested so.

“I’m good. I rested.” _I calmed down_ , they know Zuko means. Tomkin locks ankles with him under the table and chomps happily at his churro, satisfied. Lu Ten looked at him with such familial warmth that Zuko had to look away. Lu Ten’s eyes were always the color of protection, just like Uncle Iroh’s. “Thanks,” he muttered, taking a large bite so he wouldn’t have to say anymore.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Sokka stretched his arms up after ending the stream, spinning lazily in his desk chair. Still on his lap, the lug that he was, Puck huffed at him sleepily but remained stubbornly put. While he didn’t beat the world record by any means, that 5:25:08 speedrun of Pokemon Ruby really took it out of him. With a groan, Sokka heaved Puck off his lap, rolling his eyes when he flopped onto the floor dramatically, belly begging to be rubbed. Sokka was a sucker and gave in, Puck’s tail thumping slowly.

“You’re super smart,” Sokka considered. “Think I can teach you to write so I don’t have to do this essay?”

Puck woofed low in happy refusal.

“Yeah, thought not,” he sighed and grabbed his laptop and heavily-marked (out of stress, not out of interest) copy of some stupid classic European romance tragedy war yadda-yadda novel. He was in his second year of community college, wrapping up gen eds before applying to as many fancy colleges as possible with the hope of getting a reputable Architecture degree that would come with some handy networking opportunities.

He hadn’t been as smart as Katara (or _as applied,_ as his dad had said) and had paid a lot more attention to his high school hockey career than his grades. Katara had gotten into _Harvard_ , early admission, full-ride scholarship _plus_ a stipend, the whole shebang. Sokka hadn’t… applied, anywhere, because he didn’t know what he wanted out of life or what he wanted to study or where he wanted to go and he was smart enough to not force himself into something he’d start to hate one month after he couldn’t do anything to change it without starting all over. Instead, he followed his little sister to Boston (to “Cambridge,” but whatever), and worked his ass off at a locally-owned coffee shop where he made great tips and got a free meal each shift.

He realized when he was scrolling through his photos in search of a niche meme that he _did_ have an interest that he could turn academic. Every so often, he’d hit a streak of pictures he had taken of historic houses, interesting public spaces, unique designs that added something extra to whatever they were—it all pointed to architecture. He wasn’t positive about what he wanted to go with, but he was leaning to structural engineering to put his math brain to use or historic preservation to professionally obsess over old buildings. 

All this to say—he had to write an essay, and he didn’t want to, but he would.

Maybe after a snack.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

The Mexico City concert had been one of their worst in a while. Mexico City Arena had been one of the venues that sold out within a minute of tickets going on sale, and it had been packed to the brim with twenty-two thousand fans who had been so excited to see them, so welcoming and enthusiastic and loud, and the only thing Zuko felt Soolong had been able to offer in return was technical problems and _his voice cracking_ and broken mics and _his voice cracking_ and messed up choreography and _his voice_ —

“Zuko,” Lu Ten said from the door connecting their hotel rooms, his voice low and serious. “It’s okay.”

Zuko didn’t look away from the window, arms wrapped around his knees, curling into himself on the too-comfortable armchair. “No, it’s not.”

“It is. It happens. And you know no one cares as much as you.”

“Twitter cares.”

“One percent of Twitter cares. The other ninety-nine percent are fans raving about the show. Ninety-nine percent of _those_ are raving about _you_ , because other than that tiny, tiny second, you kept us from drowning tonight.”

Zuko studiously ignored his stinging eyes and the lump in his throat. “I made it _worse_.”

“You didn’t.” Lu Ten was always too kind to him. Zuko wished he would just _yell_ because sometimes making him feel worse was the only thing that made him feel better. Fuck what his therapist said about _kind words_ and _healthy coping mechanisms_.

“I _did._ ”

“ _You_ —” Lu Ten said with a small smile, coming close to sit on the arm of the chair and pulling Zuko into a comforting half-hug. “You were incredible. Who else could do that?”

 _That_ was performing a purely acoustic solo after a major malfunction disconnected the live instruments and backing tracks from the arena speakers. Between Soolong, their staff, arena employees, technicians, and everyone else who ran backstage to figure out what, why and how, it had been a frantic buzz made all the worse by the screaming audience, suddenly plunged into silence that they met with the routine chants that celebrated the group. Hearing their names— _Lu Ten, Toklo, Zuko, Tomkin, Lee, SOOLONG_ —yelled at top volume by thousands and thousands of people only made the group feel at a guilt-ridden loss, until Zuko stopped, blinked at the floor, blinked at them, grabbed his mic, and walked back on stage.

It had been an emotional performance of one of their more underrated songs—an emotional track that focused more on smooth vocals rather than setting up a scene for an intricate MV or intense choreography. It took them all by surprise, the group and the crowd. As Zuko approached the second chorus, the boys had sprung into action, rushing to join him on stage. Lee and Tomkin pretended to swoon into one another as they came over to join him, Toklo had swung an arm around Zuko’s shoulder from one side, and Lu Ten had done the same from the other. It was then, when his campfire voice was tucked between theirs, that it had cracked, barely audible but definitely there. Lu Ten had seen Zuko’s panicked eyes even though he did his best to keep his face performance-neutral, and he had known that Zuko had a long night of self-flagellation ahead of him.

Zuko shrugged and stayed silent.

“You did great,” Lu Ten said firmly. “We have to be up early for _Buenos D_ _í_ _as,_ will you try to get some sleep?”

“I guess.”

“Oh, you want me to make you tea?” he teased.

“I’ll try to sleep, I don’t want tea,” Zuko said with a childish pout.

Lu Ten peered at him for a moment before giving him a warm grin, ruffling his hair. “Fine, prove it, in bed.”

Zuko heaved out a put-upon sign but conceded, abandoning the armchair in favor of the bed. “You're not my dad,” he muttered into the pillow, no fire behind the words.

“I’m sure as hell not,” Lu Ten laughed, squeezing Zuko’s shoulder like his own father used to do for him. “Night, Zuko. You did great today.”

Zuko didn’t smile and didn’t nod and didn’t believe him, but he _did_ close his eyes. Lu Ten watched him fondly for a moment before going back to his own bed. For now, that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ vital information: zuko’s username is the same one he has used for everything since getting it as his school login in like first grade or whatever. he has an instagram that’s just zuko but only because pr made him. his password is the japanese equivalent to his social security number. so dumb  
> ✩ also: i dont have last names for any of them b u t lu ten and zuko bc i always imagine sozin being cocky enough to have changed the family name to sozin. talk about a legacy  
> ✩ to be clear 5:25:08 is not a good speedrun time but he believes in himself enough to make up for it  
> ✩ i see a lot of yall say youre not into kpop and 1. im so happy yall are reading this anyway ugh ily, 2. it’s not necessary to understand, dw! if there are any important In The Know tidbits i’ll make sure to drop them in but also 3. its so fun lmao bts has kept me company in the hellish pits of mental illness lately, 10/10 do recommend  
> ✩ once again ty [hella1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella1975/pseuds/hella1975) for tomkin, [muffinlance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance) for toklo, and [nettlewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nettlewine/pseuds/nettlewine) for my brain


	4. four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ hey… hey remember how i said i was gonna update on wednesdays and sundays and then i posted a chapter yesterday anyway? happy tuesday  
> ✩ cw for big time cringe content aka soolong imagines lmao feel free to skip them, theyre not necessary to the plot at all, but like… where there’s boy bands there’s imagines yk?  
> ✩ also im vaguely on [tumblr @ kouje](https://kouje.tumblr.com/) if yall wanna hang

Even after the horrifying call-out Sokka had put him through the first time Zuko watched one of his streams (a memory that would live in Zuko’s nightmares for _months_ ), Zuko found himself coming back again and again. His downtime, what little he had, was soon filled with Sokka’s voice and face and jokes and smiles and content that he picked seemingly at random. Sokka’s streams ranged from speedrunning _Rugrats: Search for Reptar_ to diligently practicing latte pours that fueled his off-screen sister’s late night study sessions.

Zuko wasn’t able to watch every stream by a long shot, and was hardly able to stay on for more than an hour at a time - even though they were home (finally, finally, finally), Soolong’s days were filled with filming their biweekly web series and learning new choreography and teasing the next album that was a long four months away from release and a _very short four months away from release_. He found snippets of time during rehearsal breaks, in talk show greenrooms, at Lu Ten-mandated post-dinner group hangouts in the living, and, more often than not, having a lie in, tucked in bed and feeling giddy and relaxed as he watched. His groupmates were too glad he found something to do that wasn’t brooding to interrogate him about his new distraction, and whenever anyone ( _Lee._ ) looked a little too curious, Zuko stifled his questions with a stubborn glare.

While he wasn’t sure where Sokka lived (somewhere in northeastern US, he assumed, based on the humane society he had adopted Puck from), he knew he was a solid fourteen hours behind Seoul’s time zone and their day and nights were essentially reversed. Sokka tended to go live exactly as Zuko was waking up, so his morning routine had become a simple one: wake up, check for a live stream, and watch the streams he missed if he had enough time before getting to whatever work they had that day.

He didn’t know exactly why he felt so _protective_ of his habit, but he always had an ear out for incoming intruders. They didn’t need to know _everything_ about him, he reasoned, even though Sokka was the literal one thing they didn’t know about. In reality, Zuko was worried the others would start watching, because how could they _not_? Sokka was beautiful and cool and entertaining and they were talkative and friendly and better than Zuko, and then Sokka would start ignoring him in favor of literally anyone else.

As it was, Sokka had regular viewers that Zuko began to recognize by their presence in the chat, and the way Sokka talked to them so casually. He knew some of Sokka's audience were real life friends; they mentioned work sometimes, or "see you at six." Zuko had to force his irrational envy down. He always ended up with a hundred or so viewers, but there were never too many for Sokka to ignore newcomers. Including Zuko.

“Sozzy!” Sokka grinned, glancing at the monitor at the new viewer notification. He was playing Pong and was obviously feeling frantic, going wild on the retro controller, clunky buttons clacking loudly as he smashed them. “Sup, bud, how are you?”

Sokka always asked him that, even though Zuko never responded. The embarrassment he felt when Sokka had brightly said, “He speaks, look at that! Participation!” when Zuko had typed “good” in the chat one single time rivaled the initial welcoming call-out in terms of skin-prickling embarrassment. Once more, Zuko didn't respond, but he felt a flurry of warm excitement from the acknowledgement stir in his stomach, and squeezed his pillow to his chest with a full-body shake because it was too much to stay still.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Tumblr - @soolongimagines

hey guys sorry for the long hiatus, im back with some imagines of our boysss!! follow for more thnx sorry no pics this time

Imagine cuddling with Lu Ten after a long day at school. He helps you finish your homework b/c he’s super smart and nice and makes you a snack of apple slices and peanut butter to share with you (unless youre allergic and then its just apples). When you’re done he pulls you onto his lap while you’re on the couch and he puts on your favorite movie. He is so tall and warm and he has the best arms in the whole world and he puts them around you and kisses your hair so soft and when you fall asleep on him he tucked you into his own bed and it smells like him.

Imagine going out to dinner with Toklo at a really nice fancy romantic restaurant on Valentine’s day. He had to make a reservation a month in advance like when you first started dating him but he made it b/c he knew he wanted to take you there to eat as a date. He smiles at you from across the table and pours red wine and takes a bite of bread from the table. He’s wearing a really nice suit with flowers all over it and he fixed his hair like he did for the Red Thread MV. He blushes and talks to you about your day even though you spent your day together and it’s really sweet. When you eat Toklo reaches over and wipes some pasta sauce from your lip with his thumb and it feels like a kiss. You go to dessert at a donut shop instead of getting a fancy one and sit in one of the old donut shop booths in your super pretty dress and his suit. Toklo gives you a kiss goodnight.. and then takes you inside ;)

Imagine Zuko crying after he kept messing up while learning a new dance even though you were watching him the whole time because all of Soolong invited you and it was really good. You sit on his lap and wipe his tears off his cheeks and replace them with little kisses that leave lipstick marks all over ((I KNOW HES GAY THIS IS AN IMAGINE NO HATE ALLOWED)) and it makes him laugh. He says sorry for being so sensitive but you say it’s okay because being a sensitive guy is a really good thing and means hes a good person. He smiles and touches your waist under your shirt and thanks you by kissing you a lot.

Imagine having a sleepover date with Tomkin. He invites you over to spend the night and winks and said it wouldn’t be funny business. You and him build a pillow fort in Soolong’s living room and the other guys live there but leave you two alone b/c Tomkin told them how much he likes you. He makes popcorn with a lot of butter on it and you watch a scary movie that he picked b/c he wanted to hold your hand under the blanket. You cuddle with him and hide your face in his shoulder at the scary parts and you know he likes it because he smiles really big when he’s making fun of you for it. You sleep in the same sleeping bag as him on the floor and cuddle the whole night and even kiss to sleep.

Imagine going to a carnival with Lee and it’s just you and him. He stops at every single food truck and you share funnel cakes and deep fried oreos and ice cream until you both cant eat anymore. You stop at a game booth where Lee wins you every single prize you point to even though it takes him a billion tries to win ring toss. He smiles at you every single time and he is so cute with the little gap between his teeth and crinkly eyes that you give him a kiss every time and he kisses you back. You go on a roller coaster even though you’re scared of them b/c Lee loves them and he holds your hand the whole time and thinks it’s really cute when you close your eyes. Finally at the end of the night he takes you home and helps you carry in the tons of stuffed animals he won for you including a giant teddy bear the size of you. He kisses you before he leaves and texts you that he had a great night and wants to do it again but you can pick the date :)

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Zuko’s Head - @sozz080397

Imagine hanging out with Sokka and playing some stupid video game that you lose because you suck at video games but you have so much fun that it’s impossible to care. His dog likes you a lot and lets you scratch his ears while you watch Sokka talk about a really cool house he saw the other day, like the one he talked about on stream where he went to an estate sale with zero intention of buying anything and full intention of taking sneaky pictures of the master bedroom that had a bed frame that looked like a gazebo built into the wall. He talks for hours without stopping and you love to hear him and it feels like every word said makes you more and more attached and more and more happy and more and more in—crush. He smiles at you and asks you how you are the same way he asks in his streams and you think you could listen to his voice forever. You hang out for hours and hours, until it’s late enough that Sokka asks if you want to stay the night and you want to so badly so you _do_ , and you fall asleep right beside him in his bed that smells like him and he _has_ to smell so manly in the best way, like bergamot and neroli or pine and lemongrass or even if he didn’t smell great it would still be the best smell because it would be _Sokka’s_. He touches your hair and you fall asleep in his arms like you’ve always wanted to do with _someone_ and you feel like it was always, always meant to be _him_. 

Zuko’s Head - @sozz080397

Jesus fucking christ im a mess

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Sokka _loved_ his job. He had walked into the little coffee shop nearly two years ago, aiming for an Americano and ending up with an above-minimum-wage job. He had been a few months from twenty, fresh to Boston after moving with seventeen year old sister from their hometown in Washington. As smart and savvy as Katara was, Sokka would walk over burning glass before letting her move so far away from home _alone_. The coffee shop had come at the absolute best time, when he was starting to worry about money and feeling guilt settle on his shoulders every time they got groceries with Katara’s scholarship allowance. It had also come at a time when he was ready to walk over burning glass on the bottom of a dick-deep pool of lava before drinking another cup of Seattle’s Best (Seattle's best his _ass_ ), and one of the best benefits of the job was all-he-could-drink coffee.

The environment was great, his boss let him work on homework during slow hours, his coworkers were friendly and fun, they had some great regulars—

And one horrible regular that Sokka had gotten stuck with right at the beginning of his shift, who complained that there was not enough espresso in his white chocolate mocha then when Sokka remade it there was too much _foam_ and then he made the mistake of saying, “You wanna come make it yourself, big shot?” when his boss was in Big Shot’s sight and he complained and he _had_ to be written up because there was no avoiding it and even though his boss said that it was basically a warning, he knew the situation, just try to keep a steady head, there was nothing like getting unjustly in trouble for work to absolutely ruin the day.

His favorite coworker, Suki, bless her entire soul, made sure to squish the side of one of the mini tiramisus as she was putting them in the display cabinet so he could have a free treat.

His favorite ex-girlfriend, Suki, _also_ got him potstickers for lunch, so the day wasn’t a total waste. But still.

“What are you up to tonight?” she asked as they hung up their aprons. “Hot date with the internet?”

“Hot date with the internet,” Sokka confirmed, hoisting his backpack over his shoulder. “Might fuck around, play Elder Scrolls.”

“Oh, chill. I might join your server later if that’s cool. Yue and I are gonna do dinner at Rainforest Cafe but she has work at nine.” His other favorite ex-girlfriend, Yue, loved both his ex-girlfriend Suki and themed restaurants. He got it, one-hundo percent.

“Hell yeah, let’s fuck it up,” Sokka grinned. They checked shoulders as they parted ways and Sokka felt lighter, in much greater spirits than hours before. He half-jogged home, as much as his beat-up Converse would allow him to, both eager to get out of the brisk November winds and to get home to his very best boy, Puck.

Puck greeted him with bouncing enthusiasm as soon as he unlocked the door, whining joyfully at him. He wasn’t really a barker, and neither Sokka nor the shelter knew if that was just his nature or a product of his past owners, but he was starting to get noisier as the weeks went by, whining and woofing on occasion. Those whines and woofs were music to Sokka’s ears.

“There’s my buddy boy,” Sokka cooed in greeting. “Kept the house safe while papa was at work, eh?”

Puck had put on a couple pounds since coming home with Sokka ( _happy home weight_ and not _too many treats_ as Katara claimed), and every single one of those pounds leapt into his arms, demanding to be danced around. Sokka readily obliged, spinning his huge baby and kissing his forehead.

“Missed you, too. Listen, my dude. I do not, I repeat, I do _not_ want to give you a bath today, so please don’t roll around in mystery smells like yesterday, _but_ , that said—” he looked into Pucks dark chocolate eyes, voice serious. “Wanna go on a walk?”

The 'w' word always did its job, and Puck practically flipped out of his arms to run in quick circles before bringing Sokka his leash from the basket beside the door, wagging his tail quickly enough for it to be a blur with the leash held in his teeth. With a grin, he attached it and gave him some enthusiastic pets, and went willingly back into the awful chill for an indulgent hour-long fetch sesh in the park. Puck was a big guy and had a lot of energy to burn, and that energy was burned to ash by the time they got home. Puck flopped down beside Sokka’s bed on his favorite pillow (which used to be _Sokka’s_ favorite pillow) and let out gruff snores, dead to the world.

Sokka tucked a blanket around him before he went to shower the day off. He pulled on his favorite grey sweatpants and toweled his hair off as he opened up Twitch and Elder Scrolls Online. He generally got a lot of viewers when he played ESO; people loved the opportunity to join the same servers and be featured on the Big Screen, even if Sokka’s Twitch was not exactly on the popular side. It wasn’t on the _unpopular_ side, of course, but Sokka prided himself on being slightly (if only _slightly_ ) above average. He squinted at the Go Live button for a moment before looking down at his bare chest. Yeah. Shirt was staying off.

He did get quite a few viewers early on—just over a hundred, not too many more than his usual, but it was only eight and not quite peak stream time. Hopefully more would come. He didn’t _need_ the viewers, he wasn’t monetized, but he could admit it was a good ego boost to see those numbers go up. He often made a point to greet regulars, giving a taste of new viewers the charming personability they could have for the low price of free or nine-ninety-nine a month. Whichever.

Sokka’s main ESO goal was collecting cool shit, so he focused on wandering around and picking up gems and other stuff that he would scatter around his house like a hoard-filled dragon cave. He glanced at the monitor as it pinged at him to indicate a new viewer, and Sokka grinned immediately. “Sozzy! Hey! How are you?”

As he always did, sozz080397 said nothing. Sokka was charmed. “Nice. I’m trying to steal a necklace from this—something, I don’t know where I am or how I got here but I know I’m sneaking, so—”

His grin evolved into an absolute beam when Suki popped online, immediately inviting her on camera. “What is _up_! How was your date?”

“It was great. We got five chicken finger apps and finished them all.”

“God,” Sokka said, looking at her over the screen with wide eyes. “I miss dating you, dude, you always had the best ideas.”

Suki laughed and put on her fox-eared headset. “It was Yue’s idea, actually, she’s a fucking genius.”

“Oh, well, fuck you, then, I miss dating _her_.”

Suki rolled her eyes but grinned toothily. “Stay jealous, babe.”

“I will, don't worry. Listen, I’m trying to steal a necklace, come help me be a thief—”

Suki obliged; they made the greatest team. “You got some Qs in the chat.”

“Oh!” Sokka said, pausing to sip from the plastic jug of water he kept by his desk as he read it over. “Jesus, some of y’all are interested,” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Bi, single, yes, I dated Suki, yes, I dated Suki’s girlfriend, no, we’re not dating anymore, they’re gonna fight over whose best man I get to be.”

Suki snorted and rolled her eyes, battling off someone who had discovered their presence. “We are _not_. And _no_ we’re not engaged.”

“Yet,” muttered Sokka, conspiratorial.

“Yeah, yet! You’re not gonna be in the wedding at all, we're sharing Puck as best man.”

“I’ll take it,” Sokka grinned, and delivered the killing blow to their opponent before Suki got a chance to, laughing at her affronted yell.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

“Sozzy! Hey! How are you?” Sokka had asked, just like he always did. Except, unlike every other time he asked, his chin-length hair was wet and a tiny bit curly around his face, he was completely shirtless, with muscular biceps and triceps and delts and _abs,_ and he had dark tattoos spreading over his arms and torso. A moon on his pec, a wolf on his shoulder, dark traditional bands around his arms, little stick-and-pokes scattered around his ribs, and a few more he couldn't quite see.

Zuko said nothing in the chat but he did groan loudly, burying his face in his pillows and pulling the blankets over his head, overwhelmed by everything that was happening to him all at once. _Sokka_ was happening all at once. It was too much to handle.

However, it was nothing compared to the roller coaster of emotions he felt as Sokka’s apparent ex-girlfriend joined him on the stream. He found himself grateful for the nosy people in the chat who prodded answers out of Sokka; the envy and curiosity would have curdled in his stomach but he would have never asked. He knew it didn’t matter, not in reality, but he also knew that his mind was going to latch on to the new facts: Sokka was bi and Sokka was _single_.

“Fuck,” Zuko whispered.

Without emerging from his cocoon, he reached out and locked his phone. He had been graciously left alone til nearly noon, but he heard the unmistakable steps of Tomkin and Lee walking down the hall to his room, determined to ruin his morning (well—that was dramatic. They were determined to ruin his life). Lee 'knocked' on his door with a raucous drum roll while his awful partner in crime yelled, “Up, up, up!”

“It’s our day off, leave me alone,” Zuko grumbled, not bothering to uncover his head.

Lee took that as permission to enter and they tumbled through the door, jumping on the bed to annoy him awake. “It’s our day off, we don’t want to leave you alone. We wanna do something fun.”

“Make Lu Ten and Toklo do fun with you.”

“You can’t _do_ fun, Zuko,” Tomkin said, rolling his eyes. “And they said no already.”

“I’m saying no.”

“Yeah, but you’re on the maknae line, we’re _allied_ ,” he said, propping himself up with sharp elbows on Zuko’s chest. Zuko already knew he was going to give in, but he wanted to at least give the illusion of holding out. As the three youngest members, the maknae line did tend to stick together and indulge each other in a way Lu Ten and Toklo as the hyungs, the older brothers of the group, did not.

Zuko sighed and stayed silent a long moment before peeking out from under his blanket. “Shopping.”

Lee and Tomkin beamed brightly at him and Zuko sighed again, trying to sound as put-upon as possible. At least it would be a distraction from his hindbrain, which had started a repeating the mantra of “Sokka, bi and single” over and over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ as always tomkin belongs to [hella1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella1975/pseuds/hella1975), toklo belongs to [muffinlance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance), and proper grammar belongs to [nettlewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nettlewine/pseuds/nettlewine)  
> ✩ [i made a soolong vibes playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0aa84Wmh07VPnaymrhVPnD?si=l7PtXq7iTomskCcE6jNkRA) (composed entirely of bts songs) if anyone is interested! i indicated which songs belong to which characters in the description, and what i mean by that is like, the general vibe / sound / whatever of the song is what i imagine for that character ish. like lu ten’s is romantic emotional bops, lee goes fucking hard, etc  
> ✩ i mention soolong filming a web series and again its not necessary for the plot but it’s an extremely fun element of kpop culture aka churning out ridiculous fun content constantly. [here’s a compilation of run bts](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HBPgwCQe-0Y&ab_channel=thesunshineliners) which is bts’s webseries. it’s absurd. im obsessed  
> ✩ also i am n o t versed in games at all, sorry if u are bc im sure every detail i give is incorrect  
> ✩ you guys have been so insanely nice to me oh my god thank you so much for your kind comments <3 <3 <3 i love hearing from yall so much. kiss kiss fall in love


	5. five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey remember when i pretended to have an update schedule for one single day? happy wednesday

Zuko had been on the world stage for nearly eight years. He had joined Soolong at just fourteen and, after a year of relative obscurity, they had been thrust into a scorching spotlight. He had spent his formative years under near-constant surveillance from ZhaoWorks’ strict regulations and rigid expectations and the oft-harsh, critical gaze of anyone who cared to look their way. Lu Ten had been his biggest buffer from the harmful attention back then, and, even with his care and gentle guidance, Zuko still often felt anxiety crawl up his spine, latching on like creeping vines and keeping him frozen and paralyzed, surrounded by a thousand unblinking eyes, encircling him at all times.

Sometimes, however, he felt at the opposite end of the seen/unseen, visible/invisible, known/unknown spectrum. He had been living the idol life for nearly eight years, and, unless it was a Bad Day, he was used to the stares and gossip from critics and fans alike and barely noticed they were there. It was easy to forget that he was a household name when he was not hearing that name chanted by thousands of fans. This was especially true in the States. It had taken Soolong _years_ to make it big in the West; they’d only become truly international after their rebirth under White Lotus, and it was hard to remember that they had the same (if not _more_ ) recognition away from home.

All of this is to say that Zuko very much doubted that Sokka knew who he was. The thought had crossed his mind once, a month or two back, that _maybe_ Sokka had heard of Soolong, had heard of _him_ , had seen his face before —and _that_ , naturally, is where it stopped being a good thought. Maybe if Sokka had only seen the right side of his face, still pretty and porcelain, smooth and unscarred, Zuko wouldn’t have minded so much. But as it was, if Sokka had seen his face, it would have been _all_ of his face, and that was a sickening thought.

He didn’t talk about what happened to anyone other than his groupmates and Uncle Iroh and the many, many doctors, so the scar that covered his eye was still a hot topic of speculation and theorizing that made Zuko want to shut down. It was in every single interview agreement they signed: No questions about the scar. Sometimes interviewers got brave and asked anyway, and they would stop talking, get up, and _leave_ , never to work with the interviewer again. It was a show of solidarity and kinship that made Zuko’s heart hurt. Zhao had forced him to sit through interviews with kidney stones; now, being allowed to leave as a result of this relatively minor, non-physical discomfort still astounded him. It didn’t come up as much anymore. Most publications knew that Soolong really would walk if they asked The Question, and sitting down with Soolong was a rare and profitable opportunity, one that should not be thrown away. It would make Zuko feel even more sick to think of Sokka seeing his scar and knowing how it had happened, but even with media silence, it was still not a pleasant thought. 

Zuko had been subscribed to Sokka’s channel for five months, most of which he had spent in Seoul as Soolong came down from their previous minor tour and prepared for the upcoming major tour and twice-yearly album release. As the drop date got closer and closer, Zuko found himself much less available to tune in. Sokka usually streamed at night, which meant that, more often than not, Zuko was in the middle of a midday photoshoot or filming or practice. Iroh made it a point to force them to slow down as the big dates approached, though, and _finally_ Zuko found himself able to curl up in his favorite living room chair with his favorite blanket over his lap and the hood of his favorite robe pulled over his head (a gift from Lu Ten, black and fluffy with cat ears on top. Zuko had scowled and put it on immediately).

Sokka had been streaming for an hour or so before Zuko had logged in, but he was still going strong. He had been on a Skyrim kick lately, steadily working his way through mods with the goal of creating what he called “the perfect game.” Sokka paused to take a stretch break as a dragon modded to look like Thomas the Tank Engine flew onto the screen.

“Hey, Soz! Welcome to episode five-hundred-eight of Is My Game Gonna Break Today? Bets are on no right now. I think I can get a little more wild before it crashes,” he said, reaching under his shirt to scratch his belly. Zuko’s mouth went dry; he brought his phone closer to his face, squinting at the tiny, tiny sliver of tan skin, though it disappeared half a second after he did so. He glanced over the screen with a sudden rush of panic, making sure that Lu Ten and Toklo, the other living room occupants, weren’t paying attention. Thankfully, they remained absorbed in the historical romance JDrama they had been obsessing over the past couple of weeks.

Sokka’s game got progressively weirder as he continued and more mods became evident (top hatted and monocled crabs, spiders that looked like Spiderman, trolls suddenly unbeatable), and although Sokka was right about his game being able to withhold a little more torture without crashing, it did begin to lag annoyingly another hour into the stream.

Sokka had the radio playing low in the background; not a rare occurrence, by any means, but it made the stream feel strangely cozy, like they were a big group of people hanging out in Sokka’s bedroom. He had mentioned a while back that one of his best friends who was also his ex-girlfriend’s girlfriend and was also his other ex-girlfriend hosted a late night college radio show, and he tended to put it on whenever her time slot and his stream overlapped.

“I’m gonna have to go to bed soon, guys,” Sokka said through a yawn. “Saturday morning games, you know how it be.” The chat pinged.

moon.mochi: Oh!  
moon.mochi: :)

Sokka furrowed his eyebrows at the chat suspiciously but turned the radio up. The host’s voice was lovely and clear as the music faded. “This one’s for Sokka,” (presumably) moon.mochi said. “He has a hockey game tomorrooow.”

Both Zuko and Sokka recognized the song from the very first beat. Zuko felt a rush, like his lungs turned into glaciers and ice now runs through his veins. It’s one of their songs, one of _his_ songs, and Sokka _knows_ it. Sokka let out a loud “whoop!” and punched the air, spinning his desk chair and ignoring Puck’s sleepy huff from the bed. It’s one of Soolong’s most popular songs from an earlier album, the first one released under White Lotus’ label. After their ‘mysterious’ hiatus, they had needed something that would hit _hard_ , show off their skills, their vocals, their looks, their dancing—something that would sell them as a package worth investing in. It was loud, hype, emotional, and theirs, and Sokka was listening to it.

Sokka was listening to it and Sokka was going _wild_ , spinning dizzyingly in his chair before jumping up and scooping Puck into his arms to act as his dance partner. Puck was a very good, very patient boy, and just watched Sokka lazily, tail thumping against his thigh as Sokka jumped around. While he wasn’t a _good_ singer, Sokka did manage to get most of the lyrics correct. He hummed over verses he didn’t know, but managed to sing, terrifyingly, thrillingly, Zuko’s verse word for word. Words that Zuko had sung were coming out of Sokka’s mouth, and Zuko wasn’t sure how he would be able to process that after his performance was over and done with. Not that Zuko ever, ever wanted it to end, but also, not like Zuko ever, ever wanted it to begin in the first place. He felt sick.

It wasn’t that Zuko _never_ used the chat. A few times Sokka had asked “What time is it where you guys are?” and Zuko would be one of twenty people to respond, and Sokka would say “Go to bed, Sozzy!” every time (the first two times it was because it had been three in the morning for Zuko, the third time it had been a cool five in the evening but it felt like tradition for Sokka to say “go to bed”, so he did). He didn’t often use it first, but he couldn't resist this time, fingers typing on their own accord.

sozz080397: do you like soolong

“SOZZY! Yeah, bro, I’m obsessed,” he said, still beaming and bopping his head as he let Puck down and plopped back onto his chair. He laughed as he read through the chat, which was mostly a slew of keysmashes, exclamation points, and general excitement about Soolong. Sokka grinned and answered a question that had been thrown out by a few people: “Bias? Fuck a bias, bro, I’m in love with Zuko.”

Zuko, really and truly, almost passed out; instead, he swiped the app closed and threw his phone like it had shocked him. Toklo looked at him absolutely baffled when it landed on the couch beside him. “You okay, babe? You’re super pale.”

Zuko shook his head, felt dizzy, nodded his head, felt dizzier, and scrambled up, grabbing his phone with shaking hands. He reopened the stream as quickly as he could, still tense but relaxing a fraction when he heard Sokka’s charming voice in his ears. Sokka had seen him disappear, and laughed loudly when he saw @sozz080397 in the new viewer notification. “Like I was saying,” he said, and Zuko would kill for the twinkle in his eye to be directed at him. “I bet Sozz only listens to Wii remixes, no shame in that.”

Zuko didn’t know what possessed his hands, but he responded.

sozz080397: i listen to soolong  
sozz 080397: i like soolong

Sokka grinned, sharp canines mocking Zuko, biting right into his racing heart. “Good. They’re hard not to like.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Lu Ten and Toklo exchanged a glance before looking back at the middlest member of their group. Zuko was fully focused on his phone, holding it close enough to his face that it nearly touched the tip of his nose. Toklo was right, he did look pale (paler than usual, which was pale already). It wasn’t unlike Zuko to throw an abrupt tantrum every once in a while, but that wasn’t a tantrum. Lu Ten wasn’t sure what it was, other than _odd_.

Zuko had turned from very pale to very pink by the time he locked his phone and took his earbuds out, dropping his head against the back of the chair and staring vacantly at the ceiling.

“Hey, bud,” Lu Ten said cautiously, like he was an alley cat prepared to run (the cat-eared robe didn’t help). “What’s going on?”

It took a moment for Zuko to realize he was being addressed. “Huh? Yeah, I’m good.”

Toklo smirked a little, still half-absorbed in their show. “That was not the question.”

Zuko squinted at him before the words processed. “Oh. Yeah, no, nothing’s going on.”

“Really? Seems like something’s going on,” Lu Ten pressed. _Something_ had been going on for a while, but Zuko had seemed in higher spirits, more relaxed, a little bit happier—Lu Ten wasn’t about to pry enough that it would stop. Zuko deserved a little more brightness, always. He could have the sun held in his hands and Lu Ten would go get him a supernova.

“Nothing’s going on,” Zuko snapped. His blush got pinker, verging on red; he seemed to feel the prickle of his cheeks and tugged his robe tighter around himself in an attempt to hide. “It’s not anything.”

“So there is something,” Toklo said with a snort.

“It’s nothing!”

Lu Ten knew his baby cousin enough to spot the quickly approaching breaking point. “Okay,” he conceded, holding his hands up in surrender. “It can be nothing. I’m not interested in fighting on our day off. Just as long as you’re not watching porn in the living room—”

Zuko went red enough that Lu Ten was surprised he didn’t catch on fire. With a loud wordless yell, he stood and stormed off to his room down the hall, slamming the door. A second later he poked his head out to yell, “I wasn't!” before slamming it again.

Lu Ten and Toklo exchanged another amused look before returning to their JDrama, turning the volume up to combat the music Zuko had decided to blast in retribution.

 _Drama queen_ , Lu Ten thought, impossibly fond.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Twitter _(_ _now)_

Music Insider International  
@musicinsiderintl  
Soolong’s Zuko set to release first EP (Fire Nation) under Blue Spirit moniker this month, date TBA. Single, Out of the Ashes, will be released next week. Stay tuned!

Music Insider International  
@musicinsiderintl  
Zuko on his decision to release breakout work: “I had things to say.”

SOOLONG  
@soolong  
[Blue Spirit - Fire Nation EP - Out of the Ashes - SAT12:00KST - Spotify:Single - YouTube:MV - TeaTime:React]

Zuko (Soolong)  
@zuko  
I hope you like Out of the Ashes. It will be released on Saturday, 12:00 KST on Spotify, MV on YouTube. Fire Nation EP will be released near the end of the month, pending finalization. :-)

Lu Ten ☕  
@lutenofficial  
Zuko hasn’t let us see the MV yet - catch us on Soolong TeaParty on Saturday for our LIVE reaction! My baby cousin is growing up 💖

stop calling me little tom plsss  
@tomkin  
prepare to fall more in luuuuvvvvvv 🔥🖤🔥🖤🔥

Toklo  
@toklooff  
we’re so proud of our middle child, out of the ashes is my top fav song of all time and soon it will be yours too

LEE  
@LEETEA  
GET HYPE GET HYPE GET HYPE 💪👁️👄👁️💪

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ as always tomkin belongs to [hella1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella1975/pseuds/hella1975), toklo belongs to [muffinlance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance), correct punctuation belongs to [nettlewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nettlewine/pseuds/nettlewine)  
> ✩ i made a [soolong playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0aa84Wmh07VPnaymrhVPnD?si=l7PtXq7iTomskCcE6jNkRA) that is entirely bts songs if anyone wants to listen! (HOWEVER: if you really wanna go wild and get into bts uh watch the MVs all of them. all of them.)  
> ✩ the hockey hype song i mention is essentially [THIS ONE](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2cTZTqBU1Rc&ab_channel=BigHitLabels) (fire). it's.... im.. somehow bts makes me feel gayer but also in love with seven men idk how it works but i feel the same abt ugly ass hockey boys so whatever  
> ✩ find me on [tumblr @ kouje](https://kouje.tumblr.com/) if u wanna i do love yelling into the ether  
> ✩ idk when the next chapter is going up but considering all this uh see yall tomorrow i guess


	6. six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ hey whats up happy thursday  
> ✩ [out of the ashes is just fully 100% agust d’s daechwita and i know i said you dont need kpop knowledge to read and mostly i meant that but watch the mv bc it is not knowledge it is a god given blessing. turn cc on for english subs. min yoongi is incredible and i am in love with him.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qGjAWJ2zWWI&ab_channel=BigHitLabels)

Iroh scheduled the “Out of the Ashes” release to overlap with preparations for the SELF World Tour with the sole purpose of keeping Zuko occupied. The timing of the release had the added bonus of pre-tour promotion and generating even more fan excitement about upcoming concerts and events, of course, but the primary motivation was that if Zuko was thinking about their busy schedule, he was not stuck in a self-replenishing pit of anxiety and doubt. In theory, if Zuko’s hands were busy packing, they wouldn’t shake from overwhelming anxiety. In reality, Zuko mechanically folded his clothes with the precision of a seasoned retail employee, eyes unfocused as he went through the motions, packed his suitcase, and heard nothing but his own thoughts echoing in his mind.

It had only been two hours since the release, and Zuko didn’t have to force himself to not look at the early reception - he was caught in a nauseous limbo of wanting to read every single word that had been said about it so far and wanting to delete the internet and pretending like he and his work had never existed, and while the options battled, his phone remained off. It wasn’t like the reviews of Soolong’s group work. “Out of the Ashes” was personal in a way that rivaled Lu Ten’s single about his late mother and the MV that Tomkin had choreographed that represented the death of his parents. It was about the death of _Zuko_ , in a way: he had taken the fear that followed him throughout his childhood, the deep purple of finger-shaped bruises around his wrist, the palpable feelings of abandonment and isolation he had suffered through until he was placed with Soolong, and had thrown them into a bonfire, lighting the memories like kindling. He stood in the center of the flames and _burned_ , but when they faded to nothing but bright flickers at his feet, he remained: scorched, scarred, and alive.

Scorched, scarred, and alive. There didn’t even need to be a metaphor behind it.

 _Zuko of Soolong released the worst single in the world today_ , he thought as he folded a scarf, the review drafting itself in his head. _The music was overly brassy and the chorus wasn’t catchy and the lyrics themselves were nothing but self-aggrandizing egotism that will haunt him for the rest of his life._ He folded his robe and stored it away, as well. They were leaving tomorrow for the first leg of the tour, but he could survive a night without it. _Former fans,_ he continued, _claim that this is the Zuko that was always in the background, under his mean look was a mean personality that does nothing but harm wherever he goes. It’s only a matter of time before Soolong kicks him out, his friends abandon him, and he’s left in the gutter, alone again_ —

His phone lit up with a notification, the ping loud in the silent room, startling him out of his burgeoning career of self-flagellating journalism. Lu Ten had stolen his phone before “Out of the Ashes” had dropped, deleting almost every social media app that was installed. Zuko had just leaned on his side and watched him, expressionless and accepting. Lu Ten _knew_ him, and knew that sometimes the only way to help was to make sure he didn’t have access to the hurt in the first place, or at least _easy_ access to it. So there was no Twitter to notify him, no Instagram or KakaoTalk or TikTok or Youtube—but there was the one and only thing that could get his willing attention.

Twitch - now  
boomsokkasokka is live: 1AM ICE TIME. Swipe to watch now.

In theory, Zuko venturing away from the tasks that were meant to keep him busy, especially when those ventures would take him to the internet, put him at risk of a breakdown. In reality, he was still at risk of a breakdown, but seeing Sokka’s face appear on screen was the first moment he didn’t feel like he needed to throw up in the past twenty hours. He didn’t get a friendly call-out today; Sokka’s face was close to the screen to see the new viewer notification, his nose endearingly wrinkled and teeth bared in a concentrated grimace as he adjusted his phone. He wasn’t streaming from his room, which was surprising. Like the stream title had said, it was one in the morning for him, but apparently, like the stream title said, it was ‘ice time’.

Sokka backed away from the camera and revealed an ice rink, otherwise empty and fluorescent bright. He stood there in skates, pads, a helmet and a Bruins replica jersey, all of which appeared well-loved, holding his hockey stick in his hand as he skated side to side to figure out the camera’s view. Satisfied, he skated back to the screen.

“Hey guys,” he whispered, close to the mic, the sound a little fuzzy. “I’m an ASMR channel now. Hope you like these ice sounds.”

Skating away, he tapped his stick on the ice, made snow with the sides of his skate blades, dropped a puck from eye level, and yelled loud enough for it to echo in the empty rink, “PSYCH!” He pulled a remote out of his pocket and smashed play, and “[Out of the Ashes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qGjAWJ2zWWI&ab_channel=BigHitLabels)” began to boom over the speakers.

Zuko had been standing as he watched but his knees began to wobble dangerously, forcing him to sit on the edge of the bed in shock. He was unable to look away from the screen, unable to do anything but watch Sokka run stick-and-puck drills up and down the ice, sometimes disappearing from view for a moment before flying back onto screen. He wasn’t trying to move with the rhythm, but the energy he was exuding matched the sound perfectly. Zuko hadn’t listened to the song in full since it dropped, and while that had only been a few hours ago, he felt like he was hearing it with new ears.

 _Oh,_ his mind whispered as Sokka skated back to his phone when the song drew to a close.

“I told you guys—oh, hey, Sozz, what’s up—I told you guys a couple days ago I was into Soolong and then Zuko went and did _this_ and I can’t stop listening. I had the keys to the rink and I mean, it’s almost two in the morning, I knew no one would be here, I couldn’t resist. Swear to god, I’ve been listening to ‘Out of the Ashes’ for a hundred hours straight and it was only released like five hours ago, it goes so fucking hard, there’s no way I can stay _still_ , you know?”

appamomostyle: i thot you were gona beat 14yos in fortnite :(

Sokka laughed. “That was before this came out, bro, sorry. I’m gonna do nothing but skate and blast this til further notice.”

ki_kyoshi: you have work tomorrow sokka lmao  
mochi.moon: do a twirl  
ki_kyoshi: yeah do a twirl

With a grin, he backed up and did a clumsy pirouette. “I won’t be late for work but I sure as fuck will be _tired_ and we sure as fuck won’t be listening to literally _anything else_ all shift!” With that, he clicked play on the remote and it started over again, and four minutes twenty-nine seconds later it started again, and again, and again—

Zuko could do nothing but watch, feeling so oddly disembodied and calm. His hands were steady, he noted. His thoughts sounded like they were floating somewhere above his head. His heart wasn’t racing, he wasn’t sweating, he wasn’t actively wanting to die; he was just existing, watching Sokka skate to his song, and thinking, objectively, that “Out of the Ashes” was _good._

He processed the whole thing like molasses in February, from seeing Sokka’s face up close to hearing his song played over shitty speakers for thirty minutes to Sokka sorrowfully ending the stream because he did have to wake up in four hours, slow to comprehend and slower to catch up to the present. Someone knocked quietly on his door and it took him a second to look up, looking dazedly at Tomkin’s concerned face.

“Hey,” Tomkin said gently. “Are you okay? You didn’t redownload anything, did you?”

Zuko furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head, looking at the _stream ended_ image and back up to Tomkin. “I’m okay,” he said. His voice felt closer than his thoughts as he slowly came back to his body.

Tomkin’s looked immediately relieved, though his eyes remained skeptical. He and Zuko were best friends, close to brothers, and they knew each other better than anyone else. He especially knew Zuko rarely lied, and especially knew the tells when he _did_ because Zuko lied very, very badly. ‘I’m okay’ was not a lie. “Good. We’re gonna order in for lunch. Maybe from that Indian place down the street?”

The Indian place down the street was Zuko’s favorite and they all knew it. It was another quiet kindness that made Zuko’s eyes swim. He ducked his head so Tomkin wouldn’t see it (though he already had). “Yeah, that sounds good. I, uh. I’m almost done packing.” When they thought to keep Zuko busy with packing, they hadn’t really thought about the vast majority of their tour things being packed _for_ them, and only personal clothes and items were left to deal with. It didn’t matter in the long run, though. Thanks to Sokka.

“Nice,” Tomkin grinned, “come help me pick out a movie the hyungs will hate.”

Zuko laughed and went with him, walking down the hall with their arms around each others’ waists.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Sokka was _exhausted_. He did not function well on so little sleep and had been downing black coffees with a grimace since he got to work. Suki had informed him that she was going to be the one behind the register all day and he owed her big time for it, and he’d already decided to deliver in the form of ramen from Ichiraku for lunch. He had deep circles under his eyes, his hair was in a hastily-tied messy bun, and Suki had to tell him his shirt was on both inside out and backwards (and had waited until their first customer had seen him to do so)—but he had also put “Out of the Ashes” on repeat, the volume as high as their boss allowed, before he had even poured his first cup. It was gonna be a good day.

Well—hopefully. He agreed three days ago to work a double, taking the evening shift from Haru so he could pick his mom up from the airport and take her out to dinner. Haru was a good one, and so was his mom. Even if Sokka had known Zuko’s Blue Spirit single was gonna go harder than Hephaestus’s hammer, he would have agreed to work it. He was a good friend and coworker and also loved having favors to call in on the rare occasions Katara had a bad enough day to request getting absolutely sloshed.

He might _not_ had agreed to work it if he had known that the song would go that hard _and_ that the new episode of Soolong’s webseries TeaTime would drop right in the middle of the evening rush which was right before _closing time_ which meant he wouldn’t be able to watch it for another two hours. Zuko was his bias, but he loved Soolong and their relationships and the way they hyped each other up within an inch of their lives. Zuko deserved to be hyped to death for this one. His first solo work and it was the most incredible thing Sokka had ever heard, and it was already climbing steadily to the top international charts. Sokka didn’t really have reason to feel proud of a famous stranger he had never met, but he couldn’t help it—he was his _favorite_ , he was incredible, he made Sokka’s belly swoop every time he looked at the photographs he had ripped out from Katara’s Vanity Fair and pinned to his ceiling.

 _God_ , Sokka thought as “Out of the Ashes” drew to a close again and started up once more three seconds later. _This song fucks._

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

TeaTime with Soolong! Ep.113 - OUT OF THE ASHES! SOOLONG REACTS  
LIVE - 1,348,117 viewers

“Hi, everyone!” Lu Ten said, grinning at the camera as the red recording light blinked on. “Welcome to—”

“TEATIME!” Lu Ten, Toklo, Tomkin and Lee said in a loud, enthusiastic chorus. As always, Lu Ten opened his arms in welcome, Toklo poked the dimple in his cheek, Tomkin framed his face by making an angled L under his chin with his hand, and Lee punched the air with each syllable. There was no Zuko to overlap his pointer fingers and thumbs on each cheek in tiny hearts, and the live chat was unreadable, with new comments asking after Zuko’s absence flooding the box, erasing the previous comments in fractions of fractions of seconds.

“As you can see,” Lu Ten continued. “Zuko is not joining us today. I know some of you were looking forward to seeing him react to our reactions, but none of us have seen the ‘Ashes’ MV yet and Zuko wouldn’t be able to handle the excitement.” Iroh had come to fetch Zuko right before the live started, under the pretense of taking his favorite nephew out for dinner. They never intended for Zuko to be in this episode—it wouldn’t be fun for him in the slightest, and they weren’t interested in forcing him into a silent anxiety attack, even if it would be the result of what Lu Ten had no doubt would be endless compliments and raving reviews from his groupmates.

“So _today_ ,” Toklo said with a grin, “we’re gonna watch the ‘Out of the Ashes’ MV for the very first time. We know you guys have pointed out our radio silence and that’s because we didn’t want any spoilers.”

Lee pointed at the camera, face serious. “This is live and raw and real, folks.” He loved the word ‘folks’ because it sounded like ‘fucks’ in his accent.

Tomkin laughed, knee bouncing in impatient anticipation. Zuko had kept his solo work under lock and key, to the point where they didn’t even know _when_ he had started writing music with the intention of publishing it. They hadn’t even known what pseudonym he planned on using until he told them about the EP itself. Zuko was a private person as a general rule, and no matter how much Tomkin had needled him with the need to Know, he hadn’t dropped any hints other than one quiet whisper of ‘I hope you like it.’

“I’m gonna die if we don’t play it right now, Lu,” Tomkin said. 

“Can’t have that,” Lu Ten agreed, and [pressed play](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qGjAWJ2zWWI&ab_channel=BigHitLabels).

“Holy fuck,” Toklo whispered after it was over.

“Yeah,” Lu Ten agreed, just as quiet. “Yup.”

“I’m like, a little bit in love with him,” Toklo said. He’d said that a lot in the past but it felt more true than it ever had. “Are you guys a little bit in love with him?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Lee.

“For sure, dude,” said Toklo.

“He’s my _cousin_ , no,” said Lu Ten. “That was, uh. Really fucking good, though.” Lu Ten was not known for cursing on livestreams, and the chat was sprinkled with excited comments about it, with one in between every hundred or so about how absolutely incredible Zuko’s solo debut had been.

The MV was a powerful piece where Zuko played both the hero and villain: the humble commoner with a rousing supportive crowd that represented Soolong, White Lotus and their loyal fans, as well as the tyrannical king who stood powerful and oppressive but alone. The commoner was who Zuko had evolved into as he grew up with Soolong’s support, and the king was the Zuko that had been wounded, betrayed and, in another world, abandoned, left to fester and become a cruel and dangerous man. As the commoner, Zuko was able to put his past to rest, aided by the crowd of those who had built him into the person he was. Scorched, scarred, and alive, sure—but also liberated, lionhearted, and loved.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Zuko came back from dinner with Iroh as oddly zoned out as he had been when he left, but with Korean barbecue for all of them. Tomkin immediately gathered him into a hug, forcing Lu Ten to scramble to grab the take-out boxes before they fell from Zuko’s hands. Toklo and Lee yelled in joy and happily took them from him, going off to take the best cuts of meat for themselves.

“You did so good,” Tomkin whispered, taking advantage of the inch he had on him to force Zuko’s head down on his shoulder. Zuko wrapped his arms around Tomkin after a moment of processing, pressing his sharp chin harder against him when Lu Ten gave him a strong pat on the back.

“You really did, Zukes, that was incredible. I can’t believe we have an actor in the family!”

He couldn’t see Zuko’s face but Lu Ten was willing to bet he was wearing a blushy little smile. “Don’t call me that.” He took a shaky breath and gripped Tomkin’s shirt for a second. “You thought it was okay?”

“We thought it was fucking _perfect_ ,” Tomkin said, pulling back to look him in the eye. “And so did the TeaTime chat. And _everyone_ everywhere else.”

“Number six on the Top 100!” Toklo yelled from the kitchen, Lee whooped loudly in support.

Zuko ducked his head, rubbing his pink cheeks. “It is?”

Lee couldn’t even hear him but knew he had asked. “HELL YEAH IT IS!”

Zuko smiled a little and ruffled his own hair, taking a deep breath. “Okay. Cool. Uh, I’m—bed.”

Lu Ten pulled him into a hug and gave his temple an exaggerated kiss. “Good idea. Wake up call is at six so you’ll have to help me drag those three out of bed. Assholes.”

“Assholes,” Zuko agreed as Lu Ten let him go, quiet and fond. “Kay. Night.”

“Love you.”

Zuko nodded. That was something he still had trouble with all these years later. He loved them all deeply, his found family, his family who _kept_ him, but acknowledging that they loved him back in such a vocal, outright manner was something his brain always tried to disallow. “Yeah,” he said, voice crackly.

“Love you!” Tomkin half-yelled on his way to the kitchen, with Toklo and Lee immediately yelling “Love you!” around mouthfuls of food, as well.

Zuko didn’t respond other than nodding quickly, though they couldn’t see him. They knew. It wasn’t til he had gone to his bedroom and closed the door that he opened it again and yelled “Love you,” back, just loud enough for them to hear.

Lu Ten grinned and shook his head, heart full as he joined the others. He sure as hell wasn’t their dad, but he thought he knew, just a little, what that might feel like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ once again: tomkin belongs to [hella1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella1975/pseuds/hella1975), toklo belongs to [muffinlance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance), spell check belongs to [nettlewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nettlewine/pseuds/nettlewine)  
> ✩ [as said before and also 80 times in text, out of the ashes is daechwita and i highly recommend blasting it nonstop during ur commute to work](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qGjAWJ2zWWI&ab_channel=BigHitLabels)  
> ✩ check out my [soolong playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0aa84Wmh07VPnaymrhVPnD?si=l7PtXq7iTomskCcE6jNkRA) (aka bts bops) if ur so inclined, and also my [tumblr @ kouje](https://kouje.tumblr.com/) if u want to see me post 50 things in a row once a week when i get manic  
> ✩ thank you all so much for ur kind words, i grin the entire time i read them and ugh i love yall i love talking to u god bless my dudes. hope you liked this one!


	7. seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ its friday my dudes!  
> ✩ ok i KNOW... i know i said there would be more sokka content but it didnt happen for me this time, my b. i will strive to give the Audience what they Desire. what the Populace Craves  
> ✩ the new bts album came out last night and im still only partially alive. check out the [life goes on mv](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-5q5mZbe3V8&ab_channel=BigHitLabels) lmao it made me cryyyyyyy several times

**S O O L O N G**   
**SELF WORLD TOUR**

**LONDON** (July 23-24) - **GLASGOW** (July 25) - **CARDIFF** (July 26) - **DUBLIN** (July 27) - **BELFAST** (July 30) - **MANCHESTER** (July 31) - **LIVERPOOL** (Aug 1) - **PARIS** (Aug 5-6) - **BRUSSELS** (Aug 7) - **BERLIN** (Aug 8) - **PRAGUE** (Aug 9) - **VIENNA** (Aug 10) - **MUNICH** (Aug 11) - **MILAN** (Aug 14) - **BUDAPEST** (Aug 15) - **ISTANBUL** (Aug 16) - **ROME** (Aug 19-20) - **ATHENS** (Aug 21) - **BARCELONA** (Aug 23) - **MADRID** (Aug 24) - **ALGIERS** (Sept 1) - **CAIRO** (Sept 3-4) - **NAIROBI** (Sept 5) - **JOHANNESBURG** (Sept 7-8) - **LAGOS** (Sept 9) - **DAKAR** (Sept 10) - **RIO DE JANEIRO** (Sept 17-18) - **BUENOS AIRES** (Sept 19-20) - **SANTIAGO** (Sept 22) - **LIMA** (Sept 23) - **GUATEMALA** (Sept 25) - **MEXICO CITY** (Sept 26-27) - **AUSTIN** (Oct 1) - **DALLAS** (Oct 2) - **PHOENIX** (Oct 3) - **LOS ANGELES** (Oct 4) - **SAN JOSE** (Oct 5) - **PORTLAND** (Oct 7) - **SEATTLE** (Oct 8) - **VANCOUVER** (Oct 12) - **EDMONTON** (Oct 13) - **CALGARY** (Oct 14) - **CHEYENNE** (Oct 16) - **DENVER** (Oct 17-18) - **TOPEKA** (Oct 20) - **MINNEAPOLIS** (Oct 21) - **WINNIPEG** (Oct 22) - **OTTAWA** (Oct 23) - **CHICAGO** (Oct 24-25) - **DETROIT** (Oct 27) - **LOUISVILLE** (Oct 28) - **NASHVILLE** (Oct 30) - **ATLANTA** (Nov 3) - **ORLANDO** (Nov 4-5) - **MIAMI** (Nov 8) - **RALEIGH** (Nov 9) - **WASHINGTON** **DC** (Nov 10-11) - **PHILADELPHIA** (Nov 12-13) - **PITTSBURGH** (Nov 14) - **OTTAWA** (Nov 15) - **MONTREAL** (Nov 16) - **TORONTO** (Nov 18-19) - **NEW YORK CITY** (Nov 21-22) - **BOSTON** (Nov 25) - **ST PETERSBURG** (Dec 2-3) - **MOSCOW** (Dec 4-5) - **BEIJING** (Dec 8-9) - **NEW DELHI** (Dec 11) - **MUMBAI** (Dec 12) - **BANGKOK** (Dec 13) - **PERTH** (Dec 16) - **MELBOURNE** (Dec 17) - **CHRISTCHURCH** (Dec 19) - **SYDNEY** (Dec 20) - **BRISBANE** (Dec 21) - **TOKYO** (Dec 22-23) - **SEOUL** (Dec 24)

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

When Soolong had first started touring internationally under ZhaoWorks, they had been crammed in the cheap seats, stuck in economy for hours and hours, Lu Ten practically holding his knees to his chest from the lack of legroom and Tomkin and Jet picking fights with each other after one too many elbow bumps. Zhao had eventually allowed an upgrade, but the early career cramps stuck with them; one of their very first purchases Soolong had made was a charter plane, as soon as they had been sure they would have enough international success to justify the cost. Reclining on one of the plush pleather seats as they soared twelve hours from Seoul to London, Zuko thought it was the smartest decision any of them had ever made.

Zuko had been to many, many different cities many, many different times. Soolong had been run ragged on the Asian and European circuits in their premier years and then added the Americas on to the list as they gained popularity. They had a routine in those days: their tour bus would arrive in the city, they would be prepped and sent off to do rounds with the local media up until an hour or so before that night’s concert, they would do a mic check, they would perform, they would go back to the bus and crash with mind-numbing exhaustion, and do the same all over again the next day. It was better these days—a _lot_ better. They had actual breaks scattered throughout the tour, and Iroh had even let each of them pick a stop to extend, to be able to explore (Tomkin, Zuko) or rest (Lu Ten, Toklo) or take advantage of lower drinking ages ( _Lee_ ). They had actual agency, even allowed to decide how much media to do or how many concerts to do a night. Compared to how many two-a-day tours they had done before, that in itself was an incredible luxury.

In the beginning, Zuko tended to associate cities with things that happened on stage. Before their first concert in Montreal, he had passed out on the dressing room floor, but he had been able to do that one move in BE U that he always fucked up during rehearsals. In Rome, Jet had shoved him against the wall backstage and growled at him that he _better not fucking trip up this time_ and Zuko had tripped up but there had been a group of kids close to the stage that had played _peekaboo_ with him for some reason, and he still remembered being so warmed by the odd interaction. In Minneapolis, he had been accidentally locked out of the concert hall and had to go all the way around and through an entire crowd of fans to get in through the front door, shivering violently in a short-sleeved shirt in below-freezing wind.

After their re-debut, he began to latch on to memories about their lives offstage, as well. In Munich, he had consoled Tomkin after he fell in love at first sight with a beautiful girl in the crowd, never to see her again, and he had done the choreography for “Medusa” perfectly. In Odaiba, Zuko, Toklo and Lee had gone to an arcade and they collectively spent ¥5000 on claw machines and gachapon, and it had been one of the most fun nights of Zuko’s life (followed by one of the _sweatiest_ because, apparently, the Nippon Budokan used lights that would be better suited for tanning beds). In Sydney, they filmed an episode of TeaTime while scuba diving, and Lu Ten bought him a little squid plush that still lived in Zuko’s travel bag. Near the end of their outdoor concert, it had started _pouring_ out of nowhere, and after all the non-waterproof equipment had been stored safely under the stage awning, he and Lu Ten had jumped in puddles like they were children again, the audience’s screams echoing the delight in Zuko's heart.

Now, he remembered cities by the concerts, their offstage lives, and Sokka’s streams.

In London, they kicked off the world tour with a bang and with pyrotechnics. Zuko performed “Don’t Flinch,” the second most-played song from the Fire Nation EP. It was his first time performing any Blue Spirit song live, and the audience ate it up—as did the rest of Soolong, who he saw going wild and hyping him up in the wings. They celebrated the first successful night of the tour by ordering an absurd amount of pub food to their hotel room and doing an unscheduled livestream, feeling too electrified to keep the energy for themselves. A few hours later, Sokka started a stream to show off Puck’s new tricks (“Okay, bud, play in goal!”), and had greeted sozz080397 by getting Puck to say hello with a wave of his giant paw.

In Berlin, Zuko celebrated his 23rd birthday. Seventeen thousand fans sang “Happy Birthday” to him and he couldn’t conceal the tears that sprang to his eyes, the crowd letting out a universal “ _awww_.” Tomkin snuck up behind him after to smash a teal-frosted cake on his face, and Lu Ten surprised him with an identical one once the concert had ended. It was vanilla with vanilla frosting, his favorite. Suki was featured on Sokka’s stream that night, hanging out on his bed and directing blindfolded Sokka what buttons to push in what appeared to be a very high-intensity game of Tetris.

In Rio de Janeiro, Lu Ten celebrated his 27th birthday, and Zuko was able to feel retribution for his own birthday by pouring a bucket of ice water over his head just as they wrapped up an intensive choreo piece, Lu Ten yelping in surprise. Zuko made a fan-taken picture of his shocked face his lockscreen, and as a gift, he agreed to take on Lu Ten’s usual job of wrangling Toklo, Tomkin and Lee back to their hotel rooms after they crossed the line from tipsy to obnoxiously drunk during the post-concert celebration. Zuko managed to catch Sokka’s stream right as it began, just as he was settling in beside a snoring Tomkin, still feeling pleasantly buzzed. Sokka wasn’t playing anything that night, and was instead just sitting at his desk with his bear of a dog on his lap. He had a history midterm coming up that he was nervous about, he had explained, and his sister was out for the night and his friends were busy or sleeping and he didn’t want to bother them, but wanted the company.

There weren’t many people watching, and even fewer were interacting. Maybe it was the lingering drinks in his system or the lack of others, but he didn’t hesitate as he typed in the chat.

sozz080397: youll do fine  
sozz080397: in history

Sokka cracked a grin and gave Puck a little squeeze. “Sozzy! Ha, thanks. We’ll see. I dunno what it is, but I have like, a mental block when it comes to history. I can memorize the anatomy of a beluga whale but the dates of major court decisions? No way, dude.”

sozz080397: flash cards

“Flash cards? Like, now?” Sokka laughed, and read Zuko’s silence in the chat as a yes. “Fuck it, yeah, okay, you tell me if I get it wrong since you’ll be able to see the answers on the back—”

Sokka patted Puck’s side and slid him down to the floor before hopping up and fetching his already-made flash cards. By the time he stopped streaming to sleep an hour later, Sokka had gotten up to a solid eighty-two percent by Zuko’s count. (He said the next day that he got an 82% and that Zuko was an oracle. Zuko walked around smiling for hours.)

In Seattle, Toklo and Tomkin were met with a raucous hometown reception and they ate up the attention. Zuko felt like he was watching the show himself—T & T were front and center for the majority of the concert and interacted with the audience even more than usual. Zuko had no doubt the entire performance would be Instagrammed and TikTokked and everything else-d. They bar-hopped after, forcing Lee to be the one to herd them like clumsy sheep. To no one’s surprise, this was Toklo’s extended stop (it was Tomkin’s too, but they couldn’t stay more than a few days, and used his pick for NYC instead), and they spent the two nights in the cozy house they had grown up in, outside of the city and close to Puget Sound. Toklo’s (and Tomkin-by-proxy’s) parents were incredible, and Zuko had never felt more comfortable around genuine adults than he did then. Toklo and Tomkin slept in the bunk beds of their youth, and Lee had made the enthusiastic decision to curl up on their huge bean bag like the wily little fox he was; Lu Ten and Zuko had taken the plush couches in the den.

Their second night there, Sokka talked about his home. Sokka had grown up in a small town Sound-side, about an hour outside of Seattle. His father was the captain of a fishing vessel and Sokka had always thought he’d follow in his footsteps, but his mom had wanted him to do something he loved in one of the letters she wrote him before she died. He hadn't know what he loved then, so he moved across the country with his sister when she got into college a year early.

“She got the brains, but I got the beauty,” he grinned with a wink.

appamomostyle: kjNJSKDHFBUIDSHFUSIF 😡😡😡😡😡😡😡

Sokka laughed, “I’m joking, Aang, calm down. I got some brains too.” 

appamomostyle logged off.

“Anyway, I grew up near Toklo and Tomkin, and I played for the same hockey team, and I missed them by _two years_ , it was so infuriating to find out when I started getting into Soolong. Truly starcrossed, right?”

Zuko couldn’t help himself.

sozz080397: i thought zuko was your bias

Sokka laughed and it sounded enough like a bark that Puck woofed low in the background. “Oh, big time. Zuko is my bias for _sure_. I love a good local boy but, I dunno, Zuko’s just so _hot_ , you know? Like, absolutely delectable, my poor bi heart can’t take it. He’s so thoughtful, too, he has the best commentary on stuff and we’ve all heard his Blue Spirit work, it’s so powerful and raw, it’s incredible. And he’s _shy_ , dude, that just gets me. But mainly, he’s sexy and hot and sexy again.”

Zuko stared at the screen, heart racing, face red. He couldn’t say anything after that, and could barely hear the rest of the stream, he felt like he was holding up conch shells to his ears. He could read all the thirst tweets he wanted and look at all the inappropriate posters that some of his fans made, but _nothing_ could ever stand up to the overwhelming feeling of being desired than those eighteen seconds of Sokka talking about him.

Lu Ten was peering at him from the other couch when Zuko took his earbuds out. With a sinking feeling in his gut, he swallowed. “Night.”

“Wanna tell me what’s up?” Lu Ten said, rejecting his attempt to get out of the conversation. It wasn’t a question. He added a punch to it and said, knowingly, “Do I need to give you The Talk?”

“It’s not like that,” Zuko said, burying his face in the pillow and not looking at him. Lu Ten had given him The Talk once before, after his last ‘relationship’ had ended. The general gist was ‘Look after yourself, Zuko, but let us look after you, too. Tell us what’s going on before it gets bad—not because of PR or reputation or _whatever_ , but because we care about you, more than anything. I’ll die if I see you hurt like that again.’

Sokka wasn’t Jet. Sokka wasn’t anything _like_ Jet, the situation wasn’t anything like Jet, his feelings weren’t anything like they were for Jet. Sokka was good, and kind, and utterly unattainable.

“It’s not like that,” he continued. “He’s basically an idol.”

Lu Ten gave him a strange look. “You know you can— _meet_ idols, right? We’re on that level.”

“Well—he’s not that kind of idol. He just—is like one. To a hundred people. Ish. He just does livestreams—not those kind.” Zuko felt his face grow red with a Sokka-induced blush for the eight millionth time since he started watching his streams (nearly an entire _year_ ago now). “I don’t even know where he _lives_.”

Lu Ten’s eyes got a little sad. He knew what impossible relationships felt like; in their industry, it was a consequence of fame that many idols could relate to. “Okay,” he said quietly, before blinking in consideration, thinking about the melancholy of long-distance admiration. “Is this a gay thing?”

Zuko huffed and turned away from him, tugging the comforter over his shoulders. “ _Night_.”

Lu Ten laughed, kind and familiar. “Night, dragon boy.”

In New York, Lee and Zuko collided during one of their duet verses, hard enough that both of them fell back hard onto the stage. At least it served as evidence that they didn’t lip sync, as the music continued to play without their vocal accompaniment. They stared at each other for a long moment before bursting out laughing, loud enough that a tech staffer had to rush to turn down their mics. Zuko didn’t feel anxiety claw at his chest that night like he thought he would. Instead he felt light as he, Toklo and Lu Ten sat in some niche indie theater, watching a romcom that had premiered at the Kolkata International Film Festival the week before, feeling like a (somewhat) normal person living a (somewhat) normal life. Tomkin had chosen NYC as his break spot of choice, and they all took advantage of ample shopping opportunities. Zuko almost looked forward to the next press events so he could wear some of the new suits he had splurged on.

Their last night in New York, Sokka streamed himself unboxing hockey cards. His excitement was palpable, and his reactions to getting a few rare cards of his favorite players was incredibly endearing. Zuko fell asleep sandwiched between Toklo and Tomkin (even though they had another _entirely empty bed_ in their room) with a little smile on his face. He had a treasure box in his mind of Sokka Facts. He loved adding new ones, and ‘collects hockey cards’ clinked pleasantly against the growing pile of gold coins already amassed.

They only had one more concert before flying out to Russia: next stop, Boston.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ n e x t s t o p b o s t o n  
> ✩ quick clarification bc ive seen some unsurity hell yeah sokka's in boston, katara's a harvard pre law what like it's hard bitch  
> ✩ as always tomkin belongs to [hella1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella1975/pseuds/hella1975), toklo belongs to [muffinlance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance), my ass belongs to [nettlewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nettlewine/pseuds/nettlewine)  
> ✩ zuko's dont flinch has the same vibes as [agust d's give it to me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Zgc12yL5ss&ab_channel=BigHitLabels), which is, as every single one of the loml min yoongi's work, an absolute bop  
> ✩ for f u n s i e s i wanna link to some soolong outfits using the flimsy excuse of those two tiny nyc shopping experiences: [lu ten](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/03/a7/7f/03a77f764d0cc274e522b0abc04949f4.jpg) // [lu ten again](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/80/32/25/803225f45a35d829615717428bd9d1f7.jpg) // [toklo](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/5f/69/38/5f693804d03532b723a7e7cd09e45581.jpg) // [toklo again](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/57/2d/9f/572d9fa307988e82888b020bb802af40.jpg) // [ok toklo one more time](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/bc/ad/02/bcad02ecf450941c9314d275753eb2a5.jpg) // [zuko](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/88/0f/34/880f343a860f2e71c6fbce094d9ac05f.jpg) // [zuko again](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/b4/f1/5e/b4f15e4b15324fe76eb8ba04d1a54740.jpg) // [tomkin](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ab/04/c9/ab04c94b421a82418b1103fa4fb4c9c9.jpg) // [tomkin again](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/0b/b6/5e/0bb65e012d6b464de4030fee2cbff507.jpg) // [ok tomkin one more time](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/1a/3e/fd/1a3efd6bde1e48f3e1c387de6086750b.jpg) // [lee](https://i.pinimg.com/236x/fa/56/19/fa5619bede99836f69ad2ebe07d6c9ac.jpg) // [lee again](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/56/e7/45/56e745b34cbffa768d38635611f9bad6.jpg)  
> ✩ i wanna advertise my own fic bc i edited a few typos earlier today and ended up rereading it and it was so fun to write and im an egomaniac who craves the attention. its a princess bride au called a kissing book and [here it is](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27342280/chapters/66806656)  
> ✩ next chapter will be out either tomorrow or sunday, idk yet. see u whenever  
> ✩ xoxo love yaaaaall


	8. eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ (-:  
> ✩ welcome to boston

Sokka and Katara had established a system, when they were fifteen and thirteen respectively, of dealing with the rage, angst, and emotional trauma of being teenagers in a public high school. It was a one-for-one deal, a favor for a favor, a solution for a solution, a sacrifice for a sacrifice. Sokka had broken up with Katara’s first boyfriend for her; she had done his take-home English exam in junior year. He had gone alone on a week-long trip with their grandmother so she could go camping with friends; Katara had skipped prom with him after his on-again off-again boyfriend-ish decided to be off-again the day before. Sokka had taken the bus to Bova’s Bakery during rush hour on a Friday and had brought back two and a half dozen pastries after she got a B on her Torts exam; she was going to go to Soolong’s pre-concert signing in his place after he caught the gnarly flu that swept through the coffeeshop.

He was fucking miserable.

“It’s not _fair_ ,” he whined. Congestion made his despair all the more obvious. He had been looking forward to the signing since the tour was announced. He hadn’t been able to afford an actual concert ticket, but he and every friend he could wrangle together had planned to stake out in front of one of the big screens outside of TD Garden. He, Suki _and_ Yue had been hit hard with the bug, though, so the main Soolong gang was entirely out for the count. He felt guiltily selfish about it, but he was glad he wasn’t going to be stuck at home while they got to experience the best night ever. No FOMO allowed.

“I know it’s not fair,” Katara sympathized as she wound a thick scarf around her neck. “But it’s not like you would have been able to talk to them. You wouldn’t even be able to get close for more than a second.”

“It’s the principle of the thing!” he argued. “And one second close to them is one second more than I have right now. I might never get the chance for another second again in my life.”

“Don’t be dramatic, Sokka. They’ll have more concerts.”

Katara ignored his distraught whine and gave his head a pat when she passed the couch. He grabbed her wrist, looking at her with pleading, pitiful blue eyes. “Be good to him. I’ll never have the chance to be.”

She shook his hand off and rolled her eyes. “Remember to take your medicine. And drink that tea Aang gave you.”

Sokka eyed the mug of murky herbal tea on the coffee table with great skepticism. Aang was a good guy but he was also way too into natural healing shit. “Uh-huh.”

“If I get trampled by a bunch of pre-teens at this thing I’m gonna come back to haunt you.”

“Uh-huh,” Sokka said, sinking back into the cushions even lower, miserably.

“I’ll be back in like a hundred hours.”

“Uh-huh,” he mumbled, watching her morosely as she rolled her eyes again and went out the door. _There she goes,_ he thought. _Off to meet my dream boy._

He stared sadly into the void for a good fifteen minutes before taking a swig of flu medicine directly from the bottle. He gave willingly into the merciful drowsiness—better asleep than knowing Zuko was not even five miles away and Sokka could do nothing about it. Puck stretched out on top of him like an uncomfortable weighted blanket. Katara often joked that she didn’t know which one of them snored louder, Puck or Sokka, but as they slept deeply, cuddled up on the couch, it was an even tie.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Katara had once bought herself a World’s Best Sister mug for Christmas, wrapped it, and written Sokka’s name in the “from” line. She had _earned_ that title, and it was never more evident than now. She was surrounded by thousands of people, largely loud young girls, all waiting in a snaked line inside the Boston Harbor Hotel convention hall, waiting for their very own (extremely brief) meetings with the members of Soolong.

Katara had never necessarily gotten into the whole I-POP thing (or K-POP or J-POP or American pop or anything else; she just didn't like music), but she did get it. Groups of gorgeous, talented people who dressed beautifully and paid fanservice dutifully and abandoned all hopes of a normal life in favor of making people happy— _that_ she didn’t get. She was getting close enough to the front of the line that she could see Soolong at the long table, still somehow far enough away that they were metaphorical specks in the distance. She had been there for two hours already; thank God she brought her property law textbook.

She sighed and hugged the textbook to her chest. Property law sucked. She squinted at the table as the line moved another step up. Lu Ten, at the head of the table, was grinning brightly at the fan in front of him, Toklo scribbled out a drawing next to his autograph, Tomkin asked to draw over whatever Toklo had drawn before, Lee held up the line by chatting about whatever he latched onto to anyone who ended up in front of him, and Zuko smiled politely and took an anxious sip of water. Katara didn’t envy them. Rich and famous and stuck at this thing for way longer than she would be. 

She wondered what kind of lives they lived off stage, off screen and out of sight as the line slowly shuffled forward. Did they fall in love? How did they even meet people to fall in love _with_? Did people fall in love with _them_ in a real way, not the way a dedicated fan loves an idol? Did they want pets they couldn’t have because they were away from home so often? Did they _actually_ like their life? She often thought questions like these when she was on public transit, people-watching and imaging who they were at heart. The difference there was that she couldn’t Google those questions about strangers and have it result in a million thinkpieces about their personal lives.

Katara dug through her bag to make sure her materials were straight before she stepped up to Lu Ten, who greeted her with a charming crinkly-eyed smile and a cheery, “Hi!”

“Hi,” she smiled back, handing him a headshot of himself that she had bought at the door. “Busy day, huh?”

Lu Ten laughed and uncapped his gold marker, signing the bottom corner with a flourish and sketching a crown above his head. “I’ve had busier, but yeah. Boston’s incredible, you guys really know how to make us feel welcome.” 

Katara smiled and nodded and wondered if he said that for every city they went to. “Thanks,” she said, moving on to Toklo. While she had purchased generic headshots of Lu Ten, Lee and Zuko, she had also paid the fee to have a few personal items signed, as well, including the cards she handed to Toklo with a grin. “Hi, I hope you don’t mind—”

“Holy _shit_!” Toklo gasped, eyes going wide. He shook Tomkin’s shoulder forcefully to get his attention. “Holy shit, where did you get these?”

Katara laughed. “My brother and I grew up in Port South, too. He played for the Polar Wolves a couple years after you left.”

Tomkin finished talking to the fan that was before her in line and waved her off to Lee before turning. “What—holy shit!”

“I know!” 

“One of our friend’s brothers played at the same time and had a stockpile of memorabilia. He doesn’t listen to you guys so he gave them to me and I gave them to Sokka for his birthday,” she said. Katara had been especially proud of that gift; Sokka had absolutely _lost it_ , much to the confusion of their dad and grandmother. They were just junior hockey cards, printed out on cardstock, laminated, and cut out by hand, of Toklo at eleven with two missing teeth and Tomkin at nine and barely up Toklo’s shoulders. She had posted a set of pictures of Sokka's reaction on Instagram, followed by a throwback of him getting a GameBoy Color and Pokemon Ruby and sobbing in front of all his friends during his seventh birthday party.

Tomkin looked up at her with a delighted expression, and she could see the tribal resemblance in his face. “I didn’t even know these existed!”

“He’s lying,” Toklo said, “he knew they existed and he printed out _so many_ to try to give to people.”

“I thought I was gonna make it big!” Tomkin argued, peering at his card up close. “Wow, this is so good—are we signing them?”

Katara _almost,_ almost said they could keep them, but, “Yes, please. When I go home next I’ll see if I can dig up some more. I’m sure there’s a grandmother with an attic full of them.”

Tomkin gave her a bright grin. “You’re the _best_ , thank you. Who should we make it out to?”

“Sokka. S-O-K-K-A.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Two seats down, Zuko felt his attention tug at him. He had heard something that sounded like—

It sounded something like _Sokka_. It was a distinctive name, abrupt and pleasant, and hard to confuse. But the sound was warbled as it came into his bad ear, and he couldn’t just turn away from the child in front of him who was talking about wanting to be on stage like Zuko was.

“You can do it,” he said, voice campfire warm as he assured the boy. “It takes a lot of hard work, practice, and dedication, but if it brings you joy, it’s worth doing. I bet you’re really good at ballet, huh?”

He nodded ( _Matthew_ nodded, he had told him his name so Zuko could personalize the autograph). “I’m the best in my class and there are almost thirty other kids,” he lisped a little, tongue hitting the spot where a baby tooth used to be.

Zuko glanced over, and saw the woman had moved to Lee. “Who should I make it out to?” Lee was asking her.

“I got my own solo for the recital!” Matthew said proudly, and Zuko did not hear her reply.

“You’re going to do _fantastic,_ Matthew. Get your mom to send it to me, okay? I want to see you before you get famous and forget all about me.”

Matthew laughed and hugged the signed photo that Zuko handed back to him to his chest. “I won’t forget about you, Zuko.”

“I won’t hold you to it,” Zuko smiled. “It was nice to meet you.”

“You too!” Matthew said, waving as he hopped away from the table to whisper-yell at his mother, “Zuko said I’m gonna do good! And to send him my solo so he can see me get famous—”

Zuko grinned to himself as he watched him go, and looked up at the fan-that-maybe-said-Sokka as she stopped in front of him. He felt like he was at a moment of truth. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she said, with a lovely smile. “I have a special request. I have two things, _this_ —” she handed him an aged, wrinkled sheet of printer paper, a copy of a post that he immediately recognized.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Instagram _(4 years ago)_

Zuko (Soolong)  
@zuko

Hi everyone. Zuko here. Soolong has severed our ties with ZhaoWorks. We are still Soolong, we are still together, and we are still here for you. However, Jet decided to part ways. Leaving ZhaoWorks has been a long time coming and we are all looking forward to making you smile again - in our own ways, with more control over our work, our music, and our own lives.

First, I want to say that I am so grateful to have Lu Ten, Toklo and Tomkin by my side. Without them, I don’t know how I would have gotten through these past couple of years. They have been my best friends, my brothers, my family. I used to think I was lucky to be born, but I think I was born lucky because I was meant to have them in my life.

There are many reasons why we decided to leave ZhaoWorks, but the biggest for me is this: I’m gay. ZhaoWorks told me to hide this, to never tell anyone, to push it down because no one would ever want a gay I-POP idol. I was told that I had to choose - come out and be unhappy and alone without Soolong, or stay quiet and continue to fulfill my dreams. I was told I could never do both. Together, we decided to say fuck that.

T.H. White once wrote that he was “born with an infinite capacity for love and joy with no hope of using them." I am blessed to have the hope that T.H. White didn’t, and I refuse to deny that honor.

I can’t live a life where I have to choose personal happiness over my dream, because for me, they are one in the same. I can’t give up on one part of me, or I would lose all of me, and what kind of life is that? They said that there was no place in the world for a gay I-POP idol and I truly hope that there is, but if you don’t want me - I’ll be here regardless. I don’t care. I love making music and living out my dream with the best family I could ever ask for, and with the best fans in the world. I’m going to keep living.

Thank you all for your love and support, for everything you have ever done for Soolong, and for me. Thank you for everything you will do. 

Soolong for now.  
x, Zuko

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

He autographed next to his printed name, like it was a formal letter of resignation to the Zuko he once was. It wasn’t the first time someone had asked him to sign his coming out post, but it had been over two years since he had last seen it. When it was new and they were rapidly gaining popularity, he felt like he had signed a million and it was still something raw and sensitive enough to feel like he was autographing each copy in blood. He’d certainly never signed one as worn as this.

“Sorry for the coffee stain, my brother keeps it on the fridge.”

Moment of truth. “Your brother?”

“Yeah,” she said, with a mischievous grin, handing him one of the generic portraits they sold at signings. “That’s the special request. I have a message I need to get across.”

His mouth felt dry. “Uh-huh.” Moment of truth.

“My brother’s in love with you, like half the people here, and he never does the dishes.”

“Uh-huh?” His voice was shaking. Moment of truth.

“If I happened to hand him a message from _you_ , maybe, just maybe—”

“What’s his name?” _Moment of truth, moment of truth, moment of truth._

She grinned. “Make it out to Sucker.”

“To—” Zuko blinked a few times, confused. “Sorry?”

“Sucker. Like, hey, dumbass, hey, loser, hey, whatever. I call him sucker sometimes.”

“Hey, Sucker,” Zuko said, pen hovering over his own photographed face. He took a steadying breath before writing over his body. “Hey, Sucker,” he muttered as he wrote. “Wash the fucking dishes sometimes. x, Zuko.”

She laughed in impish delight. “That is _perfect_ , thank you so much!”

“Ha,” Zuko still felt a little mystified, a little out of body. His ears still pinged with _Sokka? Sokka? Sokka?_ “Want to one-up it?”

“How?” she asked, immediately in.

“Let’s take a picture,” he said, pushing himself up and coming around the table. Their PR point person gave him a look from the sidelines; this was not necessarily conventional behavior, but Tomkin and Lee were usually the ones to break rules. He was allowed a few exceptions, too. “Proof that it’s not forged.”

She laughed and opened her camera. Zuko grinned, pointing at the signed portrait he held between them while she stuck her tongue out, flipping the camera off. She took a few rapid-fire pictures, and Zuko kept smiling as she flipped through them, showing him the winner. “He’s going to _die_. Thank you!”

“I hope your brother doesn’t _die_ but—that was fun. I hope he suffers at least a little bit.”

She laughed again, eyes twinkling. “Thanks again, Zuko. Have a good show tonight.”

Zuko nodded, and it wasn’t til got through another five fans before he even thought to ask if she and her brother would be there, and by then it was too late.

 _Oh well,_ he thought. _I hope Sucker does the dishes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ once again: tomkin belongs to [hella1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella1975/pseuds/hella1975), toklo belongs to [muffinlance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance), sanity belongs to [nettlewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nettlewine/pseuds/nettlewine)  
> ✩ my roommate kate nettlewine said "you wanna hear something sad from the gay author of the once and future king?" and i immediately added it to zuko's ig post  
> ✩ see yall (presumably) tomorrow!


	9. nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ happy sunday!  
> ✩ im SENSITIVE abt this chapter lmao im worried its not the heavy hitter yall were hoping for after the boston fake out but sometimes? thats just how it be

Soolong had wrapped up the American leg of their tour with an incredible show in Boston. It was another one that had gone off without a hitch—they seemed to have hit a lucky streak this tour, with only a few true disasters like tech issues and Tomkin getting food poisoning before their Chicago show after making the extremely questionable decision of getting oysters from a combination seafood / funnel cake food truck. While the difference between their former and current management was always obvious and astronomical, tours really drove it home. They were tired, of course, but after the St. Petersburg and Moscow concerts, they only had _ten more to go_ before going home. Eleven more if they counted the Christmas Eve concert in Seoul, but the reception they always got in their home base always felt like a _welcome back_.

Lee had predictably chosen Moscow as his extended stop, vowing to show them the true Russian lifestyle. Lee’s version of the true Russian lifestyle was, of course, the stereotypical one, with lots of vodka and borscht. Lu Ten and Zuko were able to leave their mess of a group with some harried members of their staff the day after their second concert to explore. Lu Ten had been very active on their social media to combat Toklo’s inevitable, incomprehensible drunk tweets and the even-more-inevitable pictures of their shot-after-shot bar crawl. They hoped that his artful photos of Moscow’s beautiful cathedrals and their tiny, pretty portions at the city’s best restaurants would serve as a distraction and, at least so far, they had been successful.

They flew to Yekaterinburg two days before they were due in Beijing to visit Lee’s parents. He had bought them a charming townhouse in the city as soon as he had been able to afford it—maybe a little bit sooner than that, honestly. Lu Ten had caught him eating cup noodles ten too many times when they had first moved in together and had asked his father to deposit a good portion of his own first White Lotus paycheck into Lee’s account. He had never confessed, but Lee had whispered “thank you” to him one night while they were watching _2 Fast 2 Furious_. Judging by the way Lu Ten had tucked him under his arm, doing so had been the right call.

Lee’s parents, Gansu and Sela, were amazing and so, _so_ proud of their youngest son. Lee’s brother Sensu and Lu Ten had met once before and got along like old friends, trading embarrassing stories about Lee’s childhood and idolhood respectively across the dinner table. He tried to whine about it, but his wide, gap-toothed grin gave his false chagrin away. Although Lee and Sensu acted as translators, Zuko had a great time trying to parse together their conversation. Both of Sela’s parents and Ganso’s mother had immigrated from China, so they had grown up speaking Mandarin at home and Russian everywhere else; Zuko was able to recall just enough of his childhood Mandarin lessons to have a stilted conversation about restaurants and clothes that Lee’s parents found _hilarious_.

Sela loaded their arms with carefully-packaged home cooked meals to take with them, claiming (through Lee’s translation) that they couldn’t eat out at restaurants every night like she knew they wanted to do. The attendants on their plane dutifully stored it all in the little refrigerators on board; the accompanying staff were ordered to eat it at will, as it would _not_ travel well. (Minus Lee’s favorite, of course: his mother’s schci.) They had left in the evening to give him more time with his family, meaning that they were scheduled for an overnight flight. Definitely not their favorite thing to do, but worth it to see their maknae’s soul filled to the brim with joy. They settled into their preferred red-eye nap spots of choice, readying themselves for the four-AM arrival in Beijing.

At midnight, however, they were shaken awake by their tour manager, Jin, with news from the captain.

“There’s a snowstorm,” she said, a sympathetic look on her face. “It’s too dangerous to fly through so we’re making an emergency stop in—uh, Ob, I think,” she read the scribbled note in her hand and pronounced slowly, “Novosibirsk Tolmachevo Airport.”

Lu Ten couldn’t help but groan, letting his head fall back against the seat. “Jin, no—”

“Jin, yes,” she said. “Jin can’t do anything about it.”

“Are we getting a room?” Zuko asked, his voice rough with sleep.

Jin winced, and Zuko knew the answer. “They don’t have any available, I already checked. And we need to be able to fly out as soon as the snow clears up to get to Beijing on time.”

Lee was still half asleep, but he did love airports and muttered, “Hell yeah.”

Four hours later, Lee _hated_ airports, but had still managed to stretch out on a hard plastic bench and fall into an uncomfortable slumber. Lu Ten slumped beside him, the weird angle causing him to snore. Toklo and Tomkin were curled up under the wolf-print fleece throw they had bought from the one gift shop in the airport right before they lowered the closing gate. Beside them, Zuko tugged his coat over his shoulders a little more, envious of their ability to just _sleep_. Even on good days in his own home in his own bed, it usually took him hours if he didn’t take melatonin to help. Sleeping in a stale-smelling airport in the middle of a rural Russian snowstorm was impossible. Tomorrow night’s ( _tonight’s?_ ) concert was going to _suck_.

He was in the middle of a self-pitying sigh when his phone buzzed, kept on silent to keep from disturbing the others.

 _Holy shit,_ he thought, stomach flipping.

Twitch - now  
boomsokkasokka is live: DREAM DADDY CHOOSE YOUR FIGHTER. Swipe to watch now.

Sokka hadn’t been streaming much lately, and Zuko hadn’t realized the extent of Sokka’s presence in his life until it was gone. The few times he _had_ streamed, the time difference meant that Zuko was on stage or at dinner or asleep, and it had been making him _miserable_. The guys had even noticed something was different; Lu Ten had cornered him two nights ago and told him to stop being such a dick after he had snapped at Lee for playing a game too loudly in their hotel suite’s living room. Zuko had gone red and taken a long shower and didn’t apologize but did order a chocolate lava cake for him. 

Zuko swiped as soon as he saw the T. After nearly a week of no Sokka, seeing him on screen felt like a brand new experience, one that struck Zuko right in the chest with a heart-shaped arrow. _Was his hair longer? Did his jaw always look so strong? How did he get even more handsome?_ and more pressingly, he thought, _Does he remember me?_

Sokka glanced from his game to the new viewer notification and absolutely _beamed_. “Sozzy! Hey! I haven’t seen you around, man, I thought you’d figured out how boring I am.”

Zuko huffed a quiet laugh. As if he could ever.

sozz080397: sorry  
sozz080397: ive been busy

“Don’t apologize for that,” Sokka laughed, making the in-game choice to go on a date. “I’ve been super fucking sick like, all week. It’s been awful. This is my last day off work, though, so I’m taking advantage of being able to sit up without wanting to die.” Sokka paused and squinted at the screen, like he was looking directly at Zuko. “What time is it for you? It better not be five in the morning again.”

Zuko smiled as he typed, adjusting the carry on he was using as a pillow.

sozz080397: its not  
sozz080397: its 4

Sokka barked a laugh, and a sleepy Puck responded with a low woof from under the desk. Sokka reached down to pet him. “Dude, _what_ , go to sleep—”

sozz080397: i cant  
sozz080397: im stuck in a airport  
sozz080397: snowstorm

Sokka winced. “Oh, shit, bud, that fucking sucks. Can you at least catch some sleep there?”

Zuko glanced at Tomkin as he rolled over, draping his arm around Zuko’s waist. He smiled a little and scritched his hair, using one hand to type.

sozz080397: i cant sleep with people i dont know around  
sozz080397: the people im with dont have a problem with it tho

Sokka hums in sympathy. “Aw, they’re asleep? Lonely boy.”

A swarm of butterflies in Zuko’s chest swooped pleasantly and he felt himself blush, cheeks tingling, unable to stop his thrilled grin.

sozz080397: yeah  
sozz080397: :(  
sozz080397: which dad are you gonna pick

Sokka groaned. “I don’t know. I like jock dad because he looks like me but I like goth dad, too, because—”

Zuko was already typing.

sozz080397: dont say he looks like Zuko.

Sokka laughed and shrugged defensively, throwing his hands up. “It’s the _look_ , Sozz! It’s the vibe! I’m not into goths but, like, come on. If Zuko wore a cloak, I would be all for it.”

There weren’t many people on the chat; it was the middle of the day for Sokka, and a Wednesday; most of his usual viewers were at work or in school. There were a few occasional comments from the other people watching, but for the most part it was just Zuko and Sokka having an almost real conversation, for nearly an hour. Zuko hadn’t stopped smiling since he saw the Twitch notification, and he doubted that he would stop smiling for another week after this.

And then—Sokka looked a little pink as he typed, and Zuko’s phone buzzed a second later.

boomsokkasokka [private message @ sozz080397]: hey this might be weird but do u want my number? im abt to go get lunch but i gotta keep you company ;)

Zuko wonders if Tomkin, still hugging him from the side, can feel his heart start to race.

sozz080397 [private message @ boomsokkasokka]: :)

Sokka grins on screen, and it’s a grin that is _for_ Zuko, that’s about Zuko, that is because of him and him only. Zuko’s phone buzzes again with Sokka’s actual real life phone number, and Sokka clears his throat, still grinning. “Aight, guys, I promised my sister I’d watch _The Bachelor_ with her when she got home, so I gotta dip. Thanks for hanging with me even when I had to blow my nose.” He peace-signed at the camera, and the stream went offline.

It wasn’t until then that Zuko realized Sokka didn’t have _his_ number. He would have to make the first move. _Fuck._

He went through the process of creating a new contact, opening up a new message, and typing ‘hi’ before freezing. “‘Hi’?” he muttered to himself, staring at his phone. “I can’t just say hi. That’s so stupid.” Tomkin’s nose pressed into his ribs in his sleep, and Zuko took that as agreement. 

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Katara was the most cruel, most wonderful, most horrible sister in the world. “This is all your fault,” he muttered at Zuko’s face as he washed the dishes; the autographed photo had been framed lovingly and hung cruelly above the sink. “This is the one thing that would get me. The one single thing, and she went and did it. Do the dishes. Fucking—sucker? Sucker? Fucking— _x_. Signing with a _kiss_ , Jesus.”

“Stop talking to yourself,” Katara said, walking behind him to get a yerba mate from the fridge. Aang was getting to her way too much. “People might think you’re crazy.”

“You’re the only one here and you already _know_ I’m crazy,” he complained with a huff. “And I’m not talking to myself. I’m talking to him.”

“To him?”

“To Zuko, yeah.”

Katara gave him a long look, which he returned, not doing anything about the soap bubble that had landed on his cheek. This was the ninth time he’d done the dishes in the eleven days since she had brought home the goods from the Soolong signing. She wasn’t about to complain. Sokka’s phone pinged from the counter by the sink and he actually jumped, looking at the screen eagerly. Twitter. His shoulders sagged.

“What’s up?” she asked cautiously, taking a sip and pretending that she didn’t involuntarily wince at the taste. “Waiting on a call?”

“No,” Sokka sighed, scrubbing a plate. “A text. From—somebody.”

“Somebody.”

“Nobody.”

“Nobody.”

“A stranger on the internet.”

“A stranger—Sozzy?” She could see the tips of Sokka’s ears turn red, even when he didn’t turn around. His shrug was answer enough. “Sokka, come on. I know it’s a thing or whatever, meeting people online, but someone chatting to you like once a month should not be the basis for a crush.”

“It’s not just that!” he argued, glancing at her. “It’s a _little bit_ that. I don’t know, there’s something about him.” 

“Do you even _know_ he’s a guy? He doesn’t have a profile picture or anything.”

“Yes! Someone was arguing with me in the chat that men shouldn’t use face wash and he said he was a guy and he uses face wash which means he’s probably handsome, right? Handsome guys use face wash—”

“I don’t know, _you_ use it.”

“Oh, fuck off,” he scowled.

She smiled sweetly in return. “Thanks for doing the dishes, Sucker.”

Sokka groaned but kept scrubbing, glaring at Zuko’s beautiful, handsome, perfect face. He bet Zuko used face wash.

His phone pinged again and his neck twinged from how quickly he had turned his head. _Twitter_. Ugh.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Forty-five minutes after Sokka’s stream ended, Zuko was still staring at his phone, cursor blinking beside the unsent ‘hi’. It wasn’t enough. Or was it too much? They’d spoken before, but not like this, not one on one, not without the buffer of other people in the chat or content to comment on or the knowledge that there would _be_ no speaking once Sokka’s stream came to a end. This text, this ‘hi’, would open up a new channel of communication that had no other people, had no content, had no natural closure.

‘Hi’ wasn’t right, ‘hi’ wasn’t good enough, ‘hi’ wasn’t something that would make Sokka _not_ regret giving him his number.

Tomkin shifted in his sleep. As he rolled over, his arm hit Zuko’s, and Zuko’s thumb hit send.

He watched in horror as _Delivered_ appeared under the text. Fuck. Fuck—

He didn’t have time to think a third fuck.

sokka: SOZZY HI  
sokka: 💖💙🍀🍓🎉🍄💕🌝👌🤠

 _Okay_ , he thought. _Start of something new._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ once again: tomkin belongs to [hella1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella1975/pseuds/hella1975), toklo belongs to [muffinlance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance), "what word am i thinking of" belongs to [nettlewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nettlewine/pseuds/nettlewine)  
> ✩ some #links: [soolong playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0aa84Wmh07VPnaymrhVPnD?si=l7PtXq7iTomskCcE6jNkRA) // [my tumblr @ kouje](https://kouje.tumblr.com/) // [kate nettlewine's kent parson thinkpiece if ur into check please](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27145456/chapters/66291979)


	10. ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ happy monday my dudes  
> ✩ ok im worried emojis dont appear right for all of u, let me know if they dont pls. i dont plan on not using them but im curious abt who im fucking over  
> ✩ luv yaaaaaall hope you enjoy  
> ✩ also in texts Sokka is capitalized bc zuko saves numbers properly and sozzy is not capitalized bc sokka does not lmao

“Okay, _sit_ ,” Sokka told Puck, holding his favorite drool-covered tennis ball above his phone, trying to get his attention. It was a gorgeous spring day in Boston, and the cherry blossom trees on Harvard’s campus had started to bloom en masse, creating a canvas of pink flowers and golden sunlight that was the perfect backdrop for his beautiful, beautiful dog. Puck, however, was distracted, and trying to flirt with a border collie across the yard. The border collie, Sokka noted, was sitting _very nicely_ , unlike his weird horse who was standing proud, tail wagging in a blur as he stared at her. “Puck, baby, come on, sit for Papa.”

Puck sat, but didn’t move his eyes from the other dog for even half a second, tail thumping against the ground. With a sigh, Sokka snapped a few pictures anyway, and sent the best one off to Sozzy. It was still five in the morning in Korea, but a Puck Picture was the best way to start the day. Sozzy always seemed to agree, usually sending him compliments in all caps and asking that Sokka pet Puck for him along with the ‘good morning’ meant just for Sokka.

Katara expressed skepticism every now and again, usually when she caught him grinning like an idiot at his phone. “How do you know he’s not a serial killer?”

“Even if he was a serial killer, he lives seven-thousand miles away. He wouldn’t be a very effective one, would he?”

“What if he’s not cute?”

“Come _on_ , Katara, aren’t we supposed to judge people on their personalities or whatever? I’m _acing_ that. But also—he’s hot. He’s too fun to not be hot.”

“What if he’s lying to you? About everything?”

Sokka would stay silent for a moment before looking at her with such honesty in his eyes that she’d wait at least three days before asking again. “I have a _feeling_ , Katara.”

Sokka had a lot of feelings. He felt like the Sokka’s Afternoon / Sozzy’s Morning ritual was one of the best parts of his day. He felt like Sozzy thought so too. He felt like Sozzy was the best person to talk to about stupid shit, the most random, out of nowhere things, because he seemed to get the way Sokka’s brain jumped around in a way that no one else, even Katara, really got. He didn’t mind the butterflies that had started living rent-free in his chest, because they kept him company when his only thoughts were of the ambiguous figure of Sozzy.

While Sozzy was an early riser, Sokka didn’t expect his phone to ping with a reply so soon, but there it was.

sozzy: BEAUTIFUL BOY  
sozzy: kiss his ears for me  
sozzy: sakura boy :)  
sozzy: good morning

That was another thing he loved about Sozzy. Multi-texting. He grinned as he took another picture of Puck who was still paying full attention to the other dog, and made sure to get the collie in the background.

Sokka: somepuppy has a cruuuuuush  
Sokka: it’s unrequited but he hasnt realized it yet

sozzy: oh no :(  
sozzy: kiss his ears for me twice. you know pour one out?

Another feeling: Sozzy was _oddly_ removed from mainstream culture in a way that didn’t point solely to any kind of language barrier or cultural difference. He could make relevant references, but he seemed to have no idea if they were actual allusions or not. He always had a feeling that someone had fed him some bad info that came back to bite him, like if a Baconator was just called a bacon burger, but he had been tricked into saying Baconator all along.

Sokka: yeah i know pour one out  
Sokka: you’re up early dude its like 5

It was 5:13. Sokka had the time difference memorized. Fourteen hours was a _lot._

sozzy: yeah i have a work thing at 6 :(  
sozzy: 💤💤💤

Sokka: you would have been up then anyways you freak

sozzy: its not my fault im an early riser!!

Sokka: its somebodys fault

sozzy: not mine!!  
sozzy: stop bullying me, tell me what youre doing today

Sokka: lunch w katara and aang  
Sokka: but he’s bringing appa so puck’s gonna looooose it  
Sokka: appa got a cold so we had to keep them apart for a week but theyve both been whining like its been ten years

Sokka scrolled through his Instagram and screencapped a photo of Appa and Puck playing in the snow together; if Puck was a horse of a dog, Appa was a _bison_ , and was probably shaggier than one. He always felt sly when sending an Instagram post with his username visible; it felt like he was casting a fishing rod, hoping he’d take the bait and follow him. He tried to scope him out once, looking up a million variations of sozz080397, but had no luck. Maybe he didn't have one, but in this day and age?

sozzy: BIG  
sozzy: oh my god. how have you never shown him to me before, i want to hug him so bad.

Sokka: you d o n t, trust me. he sheds like crazy  
Sokka: and you’re a l l e r g i c before you say you dont mind

sozzy: okay but i dont mind and allergy pills exist  
sozzy: i have to go but hug him for me please let me live through you

Sokka: fiiine  
Sokka: have fun at early work  
Sokka: talk to you later  
Sokka: 💙🐳💤

sozzy: 😊

That was when Puck spotted Appa. Sokka sometimes forgot how strong Puck was in addition to massive, and he was distracted enough by texting that his grip went just lax enough for Puck to break free and zoom towards his best friend. Aang seemed just as excited as Appa to see Puck, even though he had seen him three days ago and had left tiny braids in his fur that had been a painto get out. 

“PUCK!” Aang yelled, giving him some enthusiastic pets and squishing his cheeks before letting him and Appa chase each other in dizzying circles.

Sokka grinned and jogged to join them, slipping his phone into his jacket pocket, already looking forward to talking to Sozzy again.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

[Group Chat - Lu Tenants]

Lu Ten 🦁: Mandatory family dinner @ 7.  
Lu Ten 🦁: That includes you Lee.  
Lee 🦊: >:( i didnt do anything  
Toklo 🐙: except be in the studio for the past 23904850 days  
Tomkin 🐶: and not let us LISTEN  
Tomkin 🐶: who tf are you  
Tomkin 🐶: Zuko???  
Zuko 🐲: >:( i didnt do anything  
Lu Ten 🦁: I’ll get steak from Ragu.  
Lee 🦊: ill be there

[Group Chat - Hyungs]

Toklo 🐙: ???  
Lu Ten 🦁: :-)  
Lu Ten 🦁: We have to celebrate the single release :-)  
Toklo 🐙: should we seriously encourage that behavior  
Zuko 🐲: ???  
Toklo 🐙: dont act like you dont know  
Lu Ten 🦁: It’s creative!! We have to support baby creativity.  
Lu Ten 🦁: Z don’t tell him, I want it to be a surprise.

[Group Chat - maknaessss]

Lee 🦊: Zuko whats going on  
Lee 🦊: am i in trouble whats happening  
Tomkin 🐶: have you dooone anything to be in trouble?  
Lee 🦊: probably!!!! idk!  
Zuko 🐲: its fine  
Zuko 🐲: for me and tom  
Zuko 🐲: not for you  
Lee 🦊: NKSDDSJFSKJGFJ no!!!!!!!!!

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

“Just tell me,” Lee said, before he had even sat down. “Get it over with, rip the bandage off, come on.”

“It can wait until after dinner,” Lu Ten said pleasantly, thanking Zuko as he dished sides onto their plates.

“Okay, but—” Lee said, halfway through the meal, reaching for the wine bottle.

Lu Ten grabbed the bottle and gave him a stern look. “You’re not allowed to drink for another month, young man, and what did I say? _After dinner._ ”

“What did I _do_?” Lee wailed when they were done, after squirming in anticipation throughout the entire meal. Lu Ten got up and went to the kitchen without a word, emerging with a colorful cake a moment later, a mischievous grin on his face. “What?”

“Happy almost-release day!” Lu Ten said, setting it down and lighting the single candle.

“What? I’m not in trouble?” Lee blinked and looked at the cake, and tears quickly welled up. “You _guys._ ” The cake was decorated with a bright yellow sun encircled by the name of Lee’s upcoming single, and he read it reverently: “‘I’m Gonna Fuck the Sun’.”

The group cheered loudly as he blew out the candle and wiped his tears away. Zuko took a picture over Tomkin’s shoulder, a clear shot of the cake and of Lee’s hand on his cheek. He opened his messages with Sokka, attached the photo, and almost, _almost_ sent it. 

He had _almost_ sent a lot of things lately. He had _almost_ sent a picture of the sunrise from an early morning photoshoot. He had _almost_ sent a text complaining about an interviewer flirting shamelessly with Lu Ten, who could do nothing but smile awkwardly through it. He _almost_ sent a picture of _himself_ once, after Sokka had sent him a selfie with his face smushed against Puck’s.

That _almost_ had hurt.

Sokka didn’t know who he was. He felt like he had locked himself into an anonymous life, at this point; he never argued against being called Sozzy, never corrected him, because it was who he had been for the past year. It was who Sokka knew him as. It was who Sokka _liked_ and who Sokka had decided to text and who Sokka wanted around. Zuko was not Sozzy, not really. Zuko was complicated and too busy and _weird_ , and Sokka just _wasn’t._ Sokka was honest and kind and _normal,_ and Zuko didn’t stand a chance.

Sometimes, when Zuko thought about the softness that naturally occurred with hopeless crushes, he felt his scar tingle unpleasantly. It was purely psychosomatic and purely _horrible_. He didn’t need another reminder of the biggest thing that made him different and not _desirable_. Not in the way that Lu Ten was desirable, or Toklo or Tomkin or even Lee, as young and frantic as he was. He knew that their fans appreciated him, and even appreciated his look, but the scar in theory and the scar up close were very, very different experiences that Zuko hated thinking about. Compliments about his face, his body, his style, his self—they tended to do the opposite of what they were meant to. More often than not, the kindness hurt worse than the harsh critique he received because he believed that the kindness was both undeserved and _false_. Even if Sokka knew who he was, or even saw him in person, Zuko was willing to bet that he would show kindness, and it would just be a polite, cruel lie.

That didn’t matter, apparently, to his brain or heart or gut or whatever else made the decision to fall in love with him. It had been a crush, at first, when he first started watching Sokka’s streams. Then an infatuation, after a year had gone by and he was tuning in _and_ sometimes chatting with him. But now, it may not be rational or smart or realistic. Now that he was talking to him every day, all the time, Zuko was in love.

He still watched Sokka’s streams whenever he could, too; it’s not like that part of his Sokka-fascination had stopped after their relationship had evolved into something more. Their in-stream relationship seemed to stay mostly the same, with Sokka greeting him with a just-for-him grin and Zuko posting in the chat every so often, but their relationship out of the screen was _constant_. Though they had wildly different schedules, it seemed like Zuko always had texts and pictures from Sokka whenever he had the chance to look at his phone, and he did his best to make sure Sokka had the same. It wasn’t any hardship. Zuko found that he loved being able to share his life with someone, even though he only ever showed tiny, unidentifiable snippets.

He gets hit with guilt sometimes, when he thinks about what he’s learned about Sokka in the three weeks they’ve been texting. He learns that one of Sokka’s guilty pleasures is watching mukbang ASMRs; he learns that his parents were both allergic to animals and Puck was his very first dog; he learns that his mother passed away when he was ten; he learns that he’s trying to get into an architecture program in Boston; he learns that he’s from Washington. What could Sokka have learned about him? Zuko’s _life_ was being an idol; there was so much he couldn’t share. He sent pictures of food, sometimes, so Sokka knew what he liked to eat. He had mentioned ‘Tom’ once, so Sokka knew he had at least one friend. He sent pictures of parks and talked about shopping in Seoul, so Sokka knew where he lived, but what else was there?

Maybe it was because of this, the guilt of non-indulgence and the overwhelming want to share, that, when he learned his next Sokka fact, he couldn’t hold his tongue.

Sokka: finally bought tickets to go hooooome  
Sokka: for a week  
Sokka: and katara has a shitton of homework even tho its her spring break  
Sokka: but STILL  
Sokka: 🐳☂️🌲🍻🏒

sozzy: nice :)!!!!

Sokka: really truly is. i havent seen dad in foreverrrr

sozzy: youre close with him?

Sokka: hell yeah dude hes the best  
Sokka: hes a sailor so he has like, the best stories  
Sokka: when i was little he convinced me that moby dick was about him

sozzy: aw gullible :)  
sozzy: thats nice though, that your dads good

Sokka: yeah i got lucky with my parents. and katara too but dont tell her that

sozzy: no promises

Zuko stared at his screen for a moment before typing, deleting, and typing again.

sozzy: mine’s not

Sokka: your dad?

sozzy: yeah. pretty actively not good  
sozzy: the usual bad dad deal

Sokka: is there a usual bad dad deal?

sozzy: i dont know. it just sounded less pitiful  
sozzy: it got really bad when i was 16 and my uncle took me in

Sokka: oh fuck man  
Sokka: that sucks. i wont say sorry bc im pretty sure youd hate if i did but that really sucks

sozzy: yeah. i havent seen him since then. he kind of fucked me up but its okay now. ish  
sozzy: lmao he made me ugly but whatever  
sozzy: im just saying im glad you have a good dad  
sozzy: maybe im also saying im a little jealous

Sokka: there is literally no way ur ugly. like no way  
Sokka: dude dont be jealous, my dad loves my friends, hes basically your dad already

Zuko stared at his screen for another long moment before typing, deleting, and typing again.

sozzy: are we friends?

Sokka: youre a fucking idiot

Zuko’s phone pinged with a picture of Sokka giving the camera a glaring pout, with Puck happily tolerating his chin on his head. Zuko made it his wallpaper without a second thought.

Sokka: yes we’re friends.  
Sokka: asshole  
Sokka: 🤠😡

sozzy: angry cowboy?

Sokka: angry cowboy for friends.

sozzy: 🤠😡

Sokka: 🤠🤠 yeah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ once again: tomkin belongs to [hella1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella1975/pseuds/hella1975), toklo belongs to [muffinlance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance), good words belongs to [nettlewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nettlewine/pseuds/nettlewine)  
> ✩ check out my [soolong playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0aa84Wmh07VPnaymrhVPnD?si=l7PtXq7iTomskCcE6jNkRA) shouldst you want, and u can also find me on [tumblr @ kouje](https://kouje.tumblr.com/)  
> ✩ tbh... honestly.... Honestly i might update again tonight, it's going to be a Not Busy day at work and i Suspect im gonna have a lot of time to do my bullshit  
> ✩ ive wanted to include lu tenants since the literal first chapter, im so glad the best part of the fic finally found a place. nothing is as good as lu tenants. the rest of the fic will pale in comparison


	11. eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ happy tuesday lmao i lied when i said i would update twice yesterday  
> ✩ hope u enjoyyyy

“Did you find anything out?” Suki asked as they ran through their opening shift routine.

“No!” Sokka said, groaning and burying his head in his hands. “I looked all night, dude, I want to find something so bad.”

Suki gave him an odd look. “Looked for what, exactly?”

“Facebook, Twitter, uh, fucking Tumblr—”

“For Sozzy,” Suki deadpanned.

“Who else?”

“Well, bud,” she said, clapping him on the back before waving at one of their regulars who had just come in. “I was talking about MIT.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Sokka grabbed a cup from the stack and started making the macchiato before it had even been ordered. “No. Nothing.” The shop prided itself on personability, good coffee, and hot employees; he loved living up to those expectations and served it up to Dr. McElroy with a flourish and a handsome grin.

Sokka’s hunt for Sozzy’s real-life identity was his latest distraction from the silence from MIT’s admissions office. He had applied for a transfer from his community college a month ago, and he _knew_ there was a long waiting period to hear back. He also knew that getting in was a long shot, but the lack of response was starting to get to him. It was a strong application; his letters of recommendation were glowing, his SAT score was sufficiently high, his essays were next to perfect. But his grades, on the other hand, were worrying. He had managed to get a 4.3 weighted GPA at his community college, but his primary boast from high school was being a monster on the ice and taking his hockey team to the championships of every tournament they had entered. As such, his high school grades were better left unmentioned.

Katara and Yue had helped him put his application together, and (generously) thought he had a one-in-a-thousand chance. Considering that the acceptance rate for genius kids straight from high school was only a six-percent chance, he thought one-in-a-thousand was pretty accurate for a mediocre-high-schooler-turned-stellar-community-college-student. _If_ he got in, he’d be in core classes with those same genius kids, so he was trying to push his feelings of mediocrity and late bloomer-ness aside.

Sozzy had also helped him with his application and had practically written the essays, restructuring Sokka’s desperate thoughts and unorganized ideas into something sensible and _good_. The man had a way with words, and Sokka was pretty sure those essays had pushed his chances from one-in-a-thousand to one-in-five-hundred at least. Sozzy had been incredibly helpful, and Sokka hoped he knew how grateful he was. Not only was he one of Sokka’s biggest supporters, Sozzy never, ever made him doubt himself, his abilities, his absolute tenacity and determination to get where he wanted to be. He _listened_ to Sokka, helped him figure out what he wanted out of life (an architecture degree, for one, instead of engineering), and understood his vague desire to do something worthwhile. 

Sozzy wanted, like Sokka, to do something that mattered. To make a difference. To be wanted, in a way that he had never been. That had taken Sokka by surprise. He knew that Sozzy had a not-great childhood, but he didn’t fully realize the effect that could have. Sokka had never questioned his worth in his family, even as Katara succeeded where he did not. His parents had gone to all of his stupid elementary school plays and scoreless soccer games just like they had gone to Katara’s swimming long meets and boring decathalons. When their mom had died, his dad still tried to make every event that mattered to them, and their Uncle Bato went in his place when Hakoda couldn’t. He had never felt unloved or unwanted. 

Sokka: hey i know that im not really the one youre talking about but i do want you to know that i absolutely want you around. youre my favorite person to talk to, man, i cant imagine my life without u at this point. its like i want you around and NEED you around to be a quite honest freak about it.  
Sokka: again i Know im probably not the intended audience but i just want u to know  
Sokka: between me and tom and ur other friends i think youve got a lot of people who want you  
Sokka: youre my best friend.  
Sokka: fuck and suki i cant lie its you and suki  
Sokka: 🤠😡  
Sokka: 🔥💯

He didn’t get a reply before his break ended and he had to walk into hell (lunch rush), so he transformed his nervous energy into foam swans and flat whites.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

It took Zuko a long time to reply to Sokka’s texts, and he was _extremely_ glad that he had read them when after he had settled in bed and no one could hear him cry into his pillow, messy and emotional and overwhelmed with feeling. He was also glad that he knew Sokka didn’t have read receipts on, because he read the texts and felt unable to respond for a solid hour, until he knew Sokka would be working. There was precedent for this, thankfully; they had kept up a steady stream of texts and pictures and random emojis from Zuko in the middle of Sokka’s shift and from Sokka in the middle of Zuko’s ambiguous ‘work’, just to let the other know they were thinking about them. He hoped that, because of their well-established routine and the time difference, Sokka wouldn’t read his lack of initial response as hesitation.

sozzy: thanks  
sozzy: youre my best friend too  
sozzy: you and tom, i cant lie  
sozzy: 🤠😡  
sozzy: 🐺

He woke up, as he always did, to texts from Sokka.

Sokka: AM I THE WOLF??  
Sokka: dude i wanna be the wolf  
Sokka: we cant be best friends if im not the wolf

Sokka had also attached a picture that his sister must have taken; he was on the couch and mostly obscured by Puck sitting on his lap, stubbornly adhering to his belief that he was a lap dog. Sokka wasn’t even _visible_ and he managed to make Zuko’s heart skip a beat.

sozzy: youre the wolf  
sozzy: :)  
sozzy: which one am i

Sokka: we’re for sure best friends then  
Sokka: flame dw about it  
Sokka: morning sunny boy

sozzy: afternoon moon boy

Sokka: shut the fuck up thats CUTE

sozzy: sunny boy is cuter

Sokka: YEAH it is  
Sokka: ☀️🌻💛

sozzy: 🌕⭐🌃🖤🐺  
sozzy: i have to go but i should be back before you sleep  
sozzy: give puck pets for me

As always, Tomkin pretended that he didn’t know about the concept of personal space, knocking loudly before bursting in, spinning around to show off his outfit before blowing Zuko a kiss.

Zuko gave him a sleepy, unimpressed look. “You are aware that we’re going to a _photoshoot_ , right? They dress us.”

Tomkin pouted at him, throwing himself onto the bed and landing half on top of Zuko. “Nothing wrong with looking good. Like hell am I gonna dress down. And _you_ are supposed to be my hype man, hyung, very rude.”

Zuko clicked his tongue and rubbed his back consolingly. “You look very nice, Tomkin, even if you’re stupid.”

Tomkin took no offense to the insult and gave a satisfied huff. “Finally, thank you.”

“We have to leave in like, thirty minutes, let me up to get dressed.”

“I’m dressing you,” Tomkin said abruptly, taking advantage of the opportunity for leverage. “You called me stupid so I get to make you hot.”

Zuko rolled his eyes and shoved his shoulder, but didn’t argue. “No makeup, they’ll just wash it off.”

“Deal,” Tomkin said, hopping up and immediately going to cause a mess in Zuko’s walk-in closet. Zuko sighed but watched him fondly behind his back. He really did have two best friends and all he wanted to do at this point was spend time with both of them, though the feelings that Sokka and Tomkin stirred up were incredibly different.

 _I hope they like each other,_ Zuko thought, startling himself. Hope spoke of intention. While he had thought about (fantasized about, really) meeting Sokka before, he hadn’t realized the extent to which he wanted it until that point. He _wanted_ his best friends to like each other, he wanted to combine those parts of his life, he wanted Sokka to know. 

The thought made him nauseous; either he was overwhelmed by the terrifying thought of Sokka seeing him, knowing him, getting _angry_ at him, or he was lost in the clouds of Sokka seeing him, knowing him, _liking_ him, kissing him—

“Ha!” Tomkin interrupted his quickly spiraling thoughts, thrusting his outfit selection at him.

Zuko let out what he hoped was a realistic put-upon sigh and took them, letting Tomkin chat about some C-drama he’d been crying over earlier. _Maybe I should hope they hate each other,_ Zuko thought, listening fondly to his ramble. _Put the two of them in a room and there would never be quiet._

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Night found Sokka staring at his laptop for eight minutes and nineteen seconds, reading the email over and over just to make sure he really understood. It got to the point where Puck was nudging his hand with his cold nose, trying to make his frozen dad move. It took him a moment, but another chilly nudge forced him into functionality.

With a deep breath, he sat up straight, gathered himself, covered his face with his pillow, and _screamed_. He felt absolutely frantic as he came back into his body, scrambling for his phone that had been lost in the blankets, aching for the only thing he wanted to do at that moment.

Sokka: JKAHFJKHDIUSYF  
Sokka: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
Sokka: SJBVHOBODSFKSDJF SDOKSJFNM  
Sokka: kjhkj SOZY 

sozzy: ?

Sokka: dude can we call i cant type

It took Sokka a second to remember that there was no precedent for this, that this might be an unknown boundary, a faux pas, a mistake that might drive Sozzy away—then Sozzy’s name appeared on the screen, and Sokka didn’t even give his phone enough time to start ringing.

Sokka wasn’t unable to contain it any longer. “I GOT IN!” he yelled, loud and _thrilled._ “SOZZ, I GOT IN—I got in, full scholarship, right to the program, I don’t— _fuck_ , I can’t believe it. And I got permission to try out for the team, _fuck_ , I don’t know what to _do_ , I’m going crazy—”

“Congratulations, Sokka, I’m so happy for you!” Sozzy said, with a campfire-honey-sunset voice that held the genuine pride and joy that Sokka felt, and the confidence that Sozzy had had in him this entire time was evident. His voice was oddly familiar in a way Sokka didn’t know how to parse, but he couldn’t even begin to try at that moment.

Half sobbing, fully beaming, he couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m going crazy, man, I can’t—” he ran his hand through his hair and sat heavy on the bed. “You’re the first person I’ve told.”

Sozzy laughed, and Sokka felt even more on the top of the world. “ _What?_ Why?”

“You’re the first person I wanted to tell,” he said, like it was obvious. To Sokka, it was.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

“We should do this again sometime,” Zuko blurted, right before Sokka hung up. He was still reeling an hour later, when Katara had come and Sokka had to tell her the news. 

With a bright, happy laugh, Sokka agreed. “For fucking sure, dude. You’re not gonna be able to get rid of me.”

“Good,” Zuko said, vibrating with nervous excitement.

“Good,” Sokka said.

“Good,” Zuko said.

“Good—” Sokka said, laughing, a grin evident in his voice. “We’re the worst. We’re gonna do this again, okay? I’ll talk to you later.”

Zuko stared at his phone after they hung up. He hadn’t fully processed anything that had happened. He had heard Sokka’s voice talking _just_ to him, not on stream; Sokka had heard his, and didn’t seem to mind it; they had _talked_ , really talked, for a solid hour, and they were going to do it _again_. He jumped as Lu Ten rapped on his door. “Uh—”

Lu Ten acted like that was an invitation and opened it. No one in their house had any decorum. “We’re heading down to the studio for TeaTime, come on.” Zuko nodded and breathed deep, Lu Ten gave him a look of concern. “You okay, Zukes?”

“Don’t call me that,” Zuko said. He felt _light_. “I’m okay. I’m good.”

Lu Ten squinted and seemed to believe him. “It’s TeaTime.” He made it sound foreboding.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

TeaTime with Soolong! Ep.129 - SOOLONG IN THE KITCHEN pt.4 [BREAD]  
LIVE - 2,385,948 viewers

“Hi, everyone!” Lu Ten said, grinning at the camera as the red recording light blinked on. “Welcome to—”

“TEATIME!” they yelled. Lu Ten opened his arms to welcome the distant audience, Toklo poked his dimples, Zuko held finger hearts in front of his cheeks, Tomkin framed his face with an angled L under his chin, and Lee punched the air. It was a practiced move that they had perfected over the past hundred episodes of TeaTime, one that always caused the live chat to go wild from the start.

“Today, we have been sentenced to make bread,” Lu Ten said. “We’re universally bad at cooking and I expect baking will be no different. Let’s meet our contestants.” The contestants in question had been outfitted in matching aprons, with their respective icons embroidered on the front (Lu Ten’s lion, Toklo’s octopus, Zuko’s dragon, Tomkin’s puppy, and Lee’s fox). Replicas would be made available for purchase on the Soolong store after filming, and no one had any doubt that all five would go out of stock as quickly as they were put up. 

As the most competitive of the group, Toklo had put his game face on from the second the producers had told them it would be a competition. “I’m Toklo, I came to fucking win.”

“Wow!” Lu Ten said. He could see Jin sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose behind the filming crew. “Starting out hot, okay, please remember that we’re live.”

“I never forget,” Toklo said, glaring at him seriously. The producers should know by this point what they’re getting into once they put Toklo in an environment where someone would win. 

“I’m Zuko, I came to try my best and it will not be good enough,” Zuko said, grinning. He was in a strange mood, Lu Ten thought, but he was all smiles and crinkly eyes. He wished he saw this Zuko more.

“That’s the spirit!” Lu Ten said. He was born to be a show host when TV was still in black and white, but he made do with what he had.

“I’m Tomkin, I made bread one single time with my mom, and I think that’s gonna carry me all the way to the top.”

“You know,” Lu Ten considered, “it just might.”

Lee interrupted before he could say more. “I’m Lee, I _will_ be putting an entire bag of chocolate chips in mine and no one can stop me.”

Behind his back, viewers could see a producer quietly step in and take a bag of chocolate chips from the makeshift counter. He’d find it eventually, but they could at least try to halt the inevitable.

“And of course, I’m Lu Ten, and I have the best chance of winning, so, you know. Make your bets now.”

As a general rule, TeaTime was a pleasant, drama-free environment that was meant for their fans’ enjoyment more than their own. That said, they did tend to have fun—they were used to living their lives on camera for the most part, and it was easy to tune out the knowledge that millions of eyes were on them when they focused on doing whatever had been planned. Sometimes that included things like cooking or painting or arranging flowers, and it sometimes included camping or amusement parks or Dance Dance Revolution. 

The energy of this episode was _great_. They were all in good spirits, joking around and stealing ingredients from each others’ tables and intentionally bumping shoulders. Lee went on a persistent five-minute search for chocolate chips (and proceeded to dump the entire bag into his bowl as soon as he succeeded); Toklo ran off to the studio across the hall to try to knead his dough without interference; Lu Ten valiantly kept Lee and Tomkin from _trying_ to interfere; Tomkin tossed handfuls of flour at Zuko, who laughed loudly and making futile attempts to block Tomkin’s attack, capturing the entire chat’s collective heart in the process.

Lu Ten won. His bread was underbaked but, by _far_ , the most edible.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

As soon as Zuko got back to his room, he called Sokka. He expected to feel some amount of hesitation or nerves or _something_ that his mind would latch onto as an excuse to not call, but he only felt eager to hear his voice again. It was like Sokka was already waiting for him, and picked up only a second later.

“Hey!” Sokka said, almost breathless.

“Hi,” Zuko said. He felt warmth bubble up in his chest.

“Hey. How was, uh, whatever?”

Zuko grinned and sat cross-legged on his bed. He could already feel himself blushing. ‘Whatever’ had been recording a dance practice, which tended to be stressful—they had to get everything right in one go, there was no splicing and stitching clips. They had all been on top of their game, though, and it had turned out okay. Fans would like it, anyway. “Whatever was good. How was your whatever?”

“My whatever was good,” he said. Zuko heard the grin in his voice, and could imagine exactly what it looked like from his year of religiously watching Sokka’s stream. “Aang came over for dinner and now I’m pretending he doesn’t exist because I’d rather talk to you and he’d rather talk to Katara.”

Zuko couldn’t help the full-body shiver that ran through his body at the words, unable to stay still with the giddy incredulity he felt. To be compared to a _couple_ —it was almost too much. “Tom asked me to watch something but I’d rather talk to you, too,” he laughed and rubbed his blushing cheek, “but I don’t know what to talk about.”

“Fuck,” Sokka laughed. “I don’t know either, but I want to.”

“Yeah,” Zuko agreed. “Yeah, me too”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ once again: tomkin belongs to [hella1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella1975/pseuds/hella1975), toklo belongs to [muffinlance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance), brain belongs to [nettlewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nettlewine/pseuds/nettlewine)  
> ✩[zuko's tiny hearts](https://pa1.narvii.com/6796/4d4e5d33aa71b6fcbed06ab6bc7febcfa1e3a24f_00.gif) // [tomkin's face frame](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/04/16/8c/04168cc75521dfa225ef049bea827e9c.jpg)  
> ✩[zuko's look](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/3d/d3/ba/3dd3ba4bd3c7f976b13784716167ca2c.jpg) // [tomkin's look](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/a8/9a/11/a89a11570286aeb9c2a2b63aad2b92be.jpg)  
> ✩ here's the [soolong playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0aa84Wmh07VPnaymrhVPnD?si=l7PtXq7iTomskCcE6jNkRA) if u want to listen and also my [tumblr @ kouje](https://kouje.tumblr.com/) if u want to hear me talk to a target audience of 4 people  
> ✩ this was another chapter i wasnt Confident about so i very truly hoped u liked it, also: if there are any fanservice ideas yall have id love to hear them, i ended up watching 4 eps of run bts as "research" last night and got nowhere


	12. twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ its wednesday my dudes no problem  
> ✩ some notes just 4 fun from last chapter: lmao yeah teatime was based 90% on try guys without a recipe and 10% on this ep of run bts  
> ✩ sozzy’s voice IS strangely… oddly… wildly like zuko’s but what are the chances right? 1 in 7000000000 approximately? yeah right it couldnt be  
> ✩ anywhomst hope yall enjoy this one! :-) :-) :-)

One of the most convenient parts of Sozzy and Sokka’s wildly-different schedules was that, barring work, Sokka was always able to tune in to TeaTime, Soolong’s every-other-week webseries. Sozzy was _always_ busy during their streams. He was grateful for the mute chat function because, God, were there some weird people in the world. Why did they always want the group to show their _hands?_ Also: _why_ did he feel so weirdly possessive of _Zuko’s_ hands? Was _he_ one of the weird people? He decided to push those thoughts to the side as the show started.

Today, Soolong was baking bread without a recipe, and it would be, inevitably, an incredible disaster that he couldn’t wait to witness. His prediction for disaster was right an hour in (after they had proved the dough through some wild, tech-savvy innovation that his Uncle Bato would be jealous of); Lee had stuffed an odd blob of mostly chocolate chips into a pie pan, Lu Ten was blissfully ignoring how Toklo was close to tears trying to figure out why his dough hadn't rose, Zuko was trying his best and (as promised) his best wasn’t good enough to figure out the process, and Tomkin had given up halfway through and was now—

He was throwing flour on Zuko, and Zuko was _laughing_ , his smile bright and delighted as he tried to fend him off. Zuko was by far the shyest of the group, and the most reluctant to let loose in front of an audience. Fans latched on to the Instagram stories the other members posted of Zuko feeling safe at home, able to have fun and be himself out of the public eye (at least directly. He never posted on Instagram, so it was possible he didn’t even know). Sokka was _entranced_. He knew that eight million other people felt as in love with Zuko as he did, but in that moment, he felt like he was probably in love with him the _most_.

Sokka went in search for a good screencap as soon as the stream ended and one of the three million viewers who had tuned in was an actual _genius_ because it was the most high-definition, beautiful, perfect, Zuko-centric shot he had ever seen. He silently apologized to the photo of him and Suki hardstyling in front of a trash can and changed it to his desktop background. And maybe his laptop background, too. And _maybe_ his phone—

He was in the middle of a TeaTime highlight reel another god of a fan had posted when Sozzy called. Heart racing, he picked up, breathless with excitement. “Hey!”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Nearly a month later, Zuko had finally found time to watch one of Sokka’s streams in full, rather than catching snippets during breaks. Soolong had been _busy_ lately, filming a cutesy catchy MV and the dance practice that would be released along with it. Zuko loved the process—something that a lot of people speculated that he didn’t, because how could their peppier music fit into his personality? But if he didn’t love to make music, to make MVs and videos and content that their fans loved, he was in the wrong business. And he had done a lot to ensure that he _stayed_ in the business because he loved it so much. He loved the process, but, of course, it was tiring. It required long hours and lots of movement and what seemed to be a thousand reshoots of the same scene. It also required time away from Sokka.

Iroh had decided they deserved a break after a long week of filming; it took a little convincing to convince _them_ of that, as they hated breaking a productive streak, but Lu Ten had finally agreed with his father and Lu Ten’s word was law in their group. Though they had spent nearly every waking hour together for the past couple of weeks, they piled into the living room the afternoon of their day off to watch a low-budget Russian horror movie that Lee’s brother had sent him.

Twitch - now  
boomsokkasokka is live: SNAKE THE GAME NOT THE ANIMAL. Swipe to watch now.

As soon as Zuko’s phone pinged he grabbed his earbuds from his robe pocket and swiped. He hated horror and loved Sokka. It was fortunate timing.

He stayed in the living room with his back against the arm of the couch and his legs across Toklo’s lap because Toklo refused to admit that he hated scary movies (even horrible ones) and wouldn’t ask for the human contact he wanted. Zuko focused on his phone screen with a small smile on his face as Sokka appeared, and did not see the suspicious look Tomkin gave him from across the room.

“Sozzy!” Sokka said with a toothy smile. “What’s up, stranger, how have you been?”

They had called that morning, when Sokka had been getting ready for bed and Zuko had been getting ready for the day. Zuko grinned without even noticing, and did not see Tomkin’s look grow more suspicious.

sozz080397: long time no talk

Sokka laughed and minimized the Twitch screen and there, right in front of him, was Zuko’s own face. His own _body_ , flecked with flour from the last TeaTime they had streamed a few weeks ago. Sokka had _seen it_ , or had at least seen a picture of it, of _Zuko_ , and had liked it enough to put it somewhere he would see all the time. His breath caught in his throat right as a dramatic scream erupted on the television screen, covering up the sound. The scream did _not_ cover up his wide eyes and parted lips from Tomkin’s even _more_ suspicious gaze, but even if he had seen, Zuko wouldn’t care.

Sokka opened the 90s-style Flash snake program and shaped the window so that Zuko was still visible, half-listening as Sokka managed to commentate the simple game. He felt dizzy from Sokka’s acknowledgement that Zuko existed in the world, even though he _knew_ Sokka was a fan of Soolong, and was a fan of _him_. He had seen Zuko, had liked Zuko, had put Zuko in a place of honor.

His phone pinged again near the end of the movie, as Sokka was wrapping up his stream.

Sokka: wanna call?

sozzy: 🤠😡

He maneuvered out of Toklo’s grasp around his ankle and snuck out to the balcony for privacy and for the warm summer breeze. As always, he didn’t give the phone a chance to ring before accepting Sokka’s call.

“Hey,” Zuko said, smiling.

“Hey! How was your day?”

It always went like this—genuine interest in each others’ days, each others’ lives. Even though he couldn’t share the vast majority of his own (at least in detail), he felt light-hearted at the thought of their casual routine. “Good. We had a day off, so, uh, less busy than we have been.”

“I bet!” Sokka laughed. “You work all the time, dude. I’d be exhausted.”

“I am, sometimes. But I like it.” He _knew_ that Sokka wanted to ask what he did and he had no idea what he’d say if he did. Sometimes he felt like he should rehearse answers—maybe a half truth like ’oh, I’m a dancer’ or a full on fib like ‘I teach kindergarten’, but even thinking about lying to him more than he had to hurt, so he didn’t. “How was your day?”

“Ugh, boring, but there was this lady at work this morning—”

Zuko smiled as he listened to Sokka rant about shitty customers and work and Suki and Aang and Puck and anything else that entered his stream of consciousness. He _loved_ this. He loved listening to Sokka talk about everything and nothing, loved laughing at his stupid jokes that Zuko found genuinely hilarious, loved everything about their conversations. He hoped that, if Zuko did the same, Sokka would like it too. But that didn’t matter.

Zuko was in the middle of laughing at one of his Puck stories when he noticed Tomkin leaning against the balcony railing, staring at him. Paling and not taking his eyes off him, he interrupted. “Hey, Tom’s here, I have to go.”

“ _Ugh_ ,” groaned Sokka dramatically. “I see how it is,” his grin was evident in his voice. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? Morning.”

“Night.”

He and Tomkin stared at each other, and Zuko felt frozen, still on one of the lounge chairs like he had been the past hour, hugging his knees to his chest.

“Who was that?” Tomkin finally said, breaking the silence.

“No one,” Zuko flinched at his own lie and swallowed, whispering, “Sokka.”

“I don’t know a Sokka,” Tomkin said. He sounded _neutral_ and, to Zuko, that was worse than mad.

He shook his head. “No. You don’t. I’m sorry—”

The spilled out apology made Tomkin quickly relax his posture, hurrying to sit on the end of the lounge. “Hey, no, I’m just—worried.”

“Nothing to worry about,” Zuko muttered. He couldn’t force himself to meet Tomkin’s eyes again.

“I’ve _been_ worried,” Tomkin said, and Zuko couldn’t help but glance. “You’ve been acting all—weird, lately. For a long time, really. I didn’t want you to get weirder by asking. Who’s Sokka?” he squinted at him. “Secret boyfriend?”

Tears welled up without warning and without permission, and Zuko could not stop them. Tomkin looked alarmed.

“Bad secret boyfriend?”

“ _No,_ ” Zuko was embarrassed. He _hated_ crying in front of people, even Tomkin. He hated breaking down over nothing. He didn’t even know why he was crying; it wasn’t like he had repressed emotions or anything. Well. _Well._ “He’s just—my friend. A _good_ friend,” he emphasized.

Tomkin nodded, brows furrowed. “Okay, so—what’s the problem?” He breathed in and asked the real question. “Why have you been hiding him?”

“He doesn’t know who I _am_ ,” Zuko’s voice cracked. “I—it’s _fine_ , it’s fine, I’m being stupid, I don’t know why—”

“He doesn’t know who you are?” Tomkin asked, incredulously. “ _How?_ ”

“You’re gonna think it’s stupid.”

“Maybe, but tell me anyway.”

Zuko wiped his face with his sleeve and left his hand there, covering up the good side of his face. His left eye could only see about sixty percent on a good day, and the still-pouring tears lowered it to twenty-five. Twenty-five was about all he could handle right now. “I watched his fucking—Twitch streams. For, uh. For almost—two years? Since we watched the fireworks thing on tour that one time.”

Tomkin stared at him. “ _Zuko_ , what? Two years?”

Zuko felt like sobbing but he managed to hold it in. “Uh-huh.”

“You’ve been talking to someone for _two years_ and we didn’t know?”

“Well—” Zuko tried to save himself. “We only started texting, uh, three months ago? Something like that. And, uh. Calling—maybe a month now?”

Tomkin kept staring. “And he doesn’t know who you are.”

“He—he _likes_ me, like—he knows who I am, he knows I exist, but he doesn’t know I’m _me_ and we’ve been talking for years so how can I tell him I’m me when he knows about me and I haven’t _told him_ —”

Tomkin looked stressed at his rambling, and Zuko was sure it barely made sense. “How have you not told _us_ about him? You’re the worst secret keeper in the world, Zuko.”

“I _know,_ ” Zuko did sob that time, covering his half-wail by burying his face in his knees. “I don’t know!” 

“Okay—” Tomkin adjusted himself so he was kneeling in front of him on the lounge. He pet his hair softly, the way he knew Zuko found tender beyond belief, even if he never said so. “Okay, that’s fine. It’s done. So what are you gonna do?”

Zuko looked at him, eyes red. “What?”

“What are you gonna do? Are you going to keep talking to him?”

“Tomkin—” Zuko felt distraught at the very thought of stopping. “He’s my best friend, almost as much as you.”

Tomkin took care to not look incredulous, but he couldn’t hide the tiny bit of hurt on his face, and tried to soften the blow by hugging Zuko, tucking him as close as he could with Zuko’s legs between them. “Okay. So you have to tell him.”

Zuko pulled back, even more distraught. “I can’t do that!”

“Why?”

“He’ll _hate_ me! He’ll hate me, Tomkin, I can’t—”

He was interrupted by Tomkin putting his hands on either side of Zuko’s face, looking him dead in the eye, intense blue on intense gold. “Zuko. That’s fucking stupid, bud.”

That took Zuko by surprise. “What?”

“That’s stupid. If you’re already friends, if you’re already—best friends—”

“Other than you,” Zuko muttered, and Tomkin softened a little.

“Other than me. He might be mad, but he won’t hate you. I get it, I think, as much as I can, but—listen. Lying by omission is one step from outright lying.” Tomkin squinted at him again. “Have you been outright lying to him?”

Zuko quickly shook his head as much as he could with his face still between Tomkin’s hands. “No. No, I’ve been—not saying. A lot of stuff,” he winced. “Omission.”

“Right,” Tomkin nodded and looked at him sternly. “You have to tell him sometime, you know that, right?” Zuko swallowed and Tomkin could _see_ his mind searching for a way out. “If you want to keep talking to him, he has to know. You want to lie to him your whole life?” Zuko shook his head again. “Then you can’t keep yourself secret. What if he finds out himself? In a month or a year or five years from now—do you really think that would be better?”

“No,” Zuko’s voice wobbled and Tomkin tucked him close again, kissing his temple.

“I can’t tell you what to do, obviously, but—I really think you should. And I think you know you should, too.” He graciously pretended to not hear Zuko’s quiet choked sob.

“He’s gonna hate me.”

“I’ll kick his ass.”

“He lives in Boston.”

Tomkin paused. “You know how to get yourself into weird situations, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” Zuko agreed.

“Are you gonna tell him?”

Zuko rested against his chest for a long moment before pulling back, straightening up bravely and wiping the tears from his cheeks, whispering, “Yeah.”

Tomkin nodded, satisfied and soft, leaning forward and kissing Zuko’s red nose. He got a tiny, sad smile in response. “Want me to hang out tonight?” he asked, flicking Zuko’s forehead and standing up.

“Yeah. Please,” Zuko breathed deep. “I don’t want to tell anyone else.”

“Yet.”

“Yet,” Zuko agreed, looking relieved at Tomkin’s nod.

“I’m gonna take over your room and make you watch that gay shit I’m into lately,” he said, referencing, thankfully, a show. “It’ll make you _good cry._ Bring drinks when you come in, kay?”

“Kay,” Zuko nodded, watching him go and feeling only a little better about life. Before he could change his mind, he texted Sokka.

sozzy: want to video call tomorrow?

It was four in the morning for Sokka, so he knew not to expect a reply right away. Maybe he should have waited til morning, but he didn’t want to lose the flimsy resolve he was clinging onto. He took a few steadying breaths before sighing, wiping his face once more, and going in, grabbing Tomkin’s gross wine coolers from the fridge.

He had never been more grateful to not be alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ as always tomkin belongs to [hella1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella1975/pseuds/hella1975), toklo belongs to [muffinlance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance), appropriate comma usage belongs to [nettlewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nettlewine/pseuds/nettlewine)  
> ✩ i mentioned filming an mv / dance practice and its just boy with luv my dudes and if thats not a zuko sokka vibe rn… here’s the official mv, here’s the dance practice, and here’s my fav live performance  
> ✩ the gay shit tomkin mentioned is a c-drama called [the untamed](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BfKhREVFLkQ&list=PLMX26aiIvX5pYn98zge18X88sfeYbnhTr&ab_channel=%E8%85%BE%E8%AE%AF%E8%A7%86%E9%A2%91) that im obsessing over even tho i only watch like half an episode a day lmao i love it, do recommend  
> ✩ hope yall enjoyed xoxo love yall ty for reading


	13. thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ :-)

It wasn’t rare that Sokka woke up to texts from Sozzy, the same way he knew Sozzy woke up to texts from him. It wasn’t rare that Sokka woke up to texts from Sozzy asking if he wanted to call later that day, the same way he knew Sozzy woke up to texts from him asking if he wanted to. It _was_ rare to wake up to text from Sozzy ranting vaguely about a problem in his life, even if it wasn’t rare for Sokka to do the same. It was absolutely unprecedented for Sokka to wake up to a text like this.

Sokka read, reread, and reread Sozzy’s text again, and the words did not change.

sozzy: want to video call tomorrow?

He did. He really, really did want to call. He had never wanted anything more. He really—he was really, really nervous. He had never been struck with such a torrent of emotions running through his still-half-asleep system. It’s not like it wasn’t real already, but seeing Sozzy’s face would make their relationship so much more solid, personified, _fulfilled_. The prospect was as terrifying as it was desperately alluring. Nevermind that Sokka had gone on several Sozzy-hunts, scouring almost every social media platform. He couldn’t believe, quite honestly, that _he_ hadn’t been the one to throw the idea out there.

Nerves or not, there was only one conceivable answer.

Sokka: YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
Sokka: BRO YEAH YES  
Sokka: i have work in 30 but ur asleep anyway  
Sokka: or u BETTER BE asshole cant keep burning the candle at both ends  
Sokka: but yeah yes i wanna call  
Sokka: swear to god im keeping my sound on so like text whenever  
Sokka: im working w suki she wont care ill take my break 10 mins into my shift if ur up then  
Sokka: again u better not fucking be  
Sokka: yeah. fuck yeah  
Sokka: 🤠😡🤠😡🤠😡

Sokka had no idea how he was going to get through the morning rush _knowing_ what was going to come at him later. Maybe he should have set a time to settle into a known expectation rather than an unknown thrill. Sozzy’s schedule wasn’t exactly predictable, though, and he wasn’t about to pull him away from—whatever. Fuck, if he was seeing Sozzy’s face, maybe he wouldn’t mind actually telling him a few things he’d been holding close to his chest for so fucking long, like what his job even was.

Sokka pretended that he didn’t pay special attention to his hair, pretended that he didn’t wash his face twice. He had a morning routine. Maybe he was just feeling thorough for no reason that day.

Suki gave him a squinty-eyed look as he came in. “What’s up, loser?”

Sokka winced. Sometimes he forgot she knew him so well. He hopped right into putting down the chairs in an attempt to avoid further scrutiny. “Nothing. I might have to, uh, hop out later, so I can run the machines today.”

That was _maybe_ the wrong thing to say if he wanted to lower her suspicions. Suki hated being on coffee-making duty in the mornings, when a hundred people seemed to expect their orders at the exact same time. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, just—uh. Sozz and I are gonna call. Like, uh. On video.”

Suki raised her eyebrows. “On _video_ , huh?” She leaned on the counter as she watched him. Sokka could feel her eyes on his back. “That’s a new development.”

“Yeah. He asked if I wanted to, so.” Sokka shrugged and looked at her, the tips of his ears were red. “He knows my schedule for the most part, and he probably won’t be awake until rush is over. So, uh. I just wanted to let you know I might need to duck out for a minute.”

Suki sighed. “Fine, but just because I’m curious about what the fuck, too.”

Sokka grinned, still feeling a little self-conscious about how flustered he was. “Thanks, dude.”

“I hope he’s not ugly, for both our sakes.”

He rolled his eyes and opened the door with a flourish for their first customer of the day, grateful to have the chance to keep his thoughts in his own head.

Volunteering to be the point-man for drinks, leaving Suki to counter and pastry duty, turned out to be a genius idea. He was too focused on multitasking and running through complicated orders to concentrate on figuring out whether the fluttering in his stomach was butterflies or bees. The butterflies were familiar and welcome, but the bees were certainly unexpected. They’d be worth the discomfort in the end, though. He was sure of it.

The rush was in the process of dying down when his phone buzzed in his apron pocket. Sokka went wide eyed and legitimately jumped, looking at Suki frantically. She rolled her eyes and jerked her head to indicate he could go, taking the to-go cup of tea from his hand before he could run off. “He better be hot, Sokka.”

Sokka could do nothing but exhale a shaky breath and try not to run to the office slash storage slash staff room.

sozzy: okay  
sozzy: im up. call when you can

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Zuko didn’t know how he managed to fall asleep, but he woke up with Tomkin splayed over him and ‘Are you still watching?’ on the television. He felt oddly well-rested and calm, and embraced the morning sun shining into his room for a moment, laying still in the light coming in from his window. It wasn’t until he reached for his phone laying face-down on his bedside table that his heart seemed to speed up tenfold, breath seizing in his chest as he remembered what he had done. What he had _said._

Morbid curiosity burned in him enough to break through the paralysis, grabbing his phone and opening the texts from Sokka before he could change his mind.

He had said yes. Sokka said yes.

Zuko had locked himself in the night before by asking if he wanted to video call, and Sokka’s confirmation added a deadbolt onto the metaphorical door. Time to add a padlock.

sozzy: okay  
sozzy: im up. call when you can.

He was tempted to turn his phone off for a split second, and even more tempted to throw it at the wall so he didn’t even have the choice to answer or not. Instead, he swallowed, shook Tomkin’s shoulder, and sent his grumpy friend off to his own bed. The door closed behind Tomkin right as Sokka’s name appeared.

He had sent the texts less than two minutes ago, without even thinking about Sokka’s promise to pick up as soon as he could, without even thinking about trying to look _nice_. He probably had the worst bed head he’d ever had, and pillow lines on his cheeks, and bags under his eyes, and—

The call was about to ring out. He pressed _accept with video_ before he could change his mind.

Sokka’s face, Sokka’s beautiful, perfect, grinning face, appeared on screen, eyes more blue than Zuko had ever seen them, hair softer, canines sharper, nose cuter—

Sokka’s grin fell slowly as he looked at Zuko, brows furrowed.

Call Ended.

Zuko’s heart dropped to his stomach. His lungs couldn’t figure out if they wanted to start hyperventilating or stop breathing all together, so they settled for making him lightheaded and nauseous and close to breaking down before even one second had passed.

Sokka’s name appeared again. Call Incoming.

Zuko pressed accept with video, sure that he had managed to look even worse this time around.

Sokka’s face was closer to the camera than it had been, his brows still furrowed, his eyes flicking over the screen, over Zuko’s face.

Call Ended.

Zuko felt dizzy, and was glad he was in bed because, otherwise, he would faint and hit his head on the floor and injure his brain and maybe he would never be able to perform again but maybe he’d never have to confront what was happening, either. Fuck, maybe he should stand up.

Call Incoming. 

“Jesus, this is a really stubborn hallucination,” Sokka muttered when he answered.

“I'm not a hallucination,” Zuko’s voice shook. He glanced at himself in the corner of the screen, confirming his fear that he looked _awful_. He fixated on the scar, as he always did. He felt even dizzier.

“Huh,” Sokka said, nodding. “Okay. Not a hallucination.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Zuko was staring at Sokka. Sokka was staring at Zuko. Zuko from Soolong. Zuko who had picked up the phone when Sokka called. Zuko who had Sozzy’s number. Zuko who was—

“Sozzy. Sozz. Sozin. Zuko.”

“Yeah. That’s—my, uh. Username. From first grade.” His voice was the same pleasant campfire that Sozzy’s was when they talked. One time, as he was falling asleep to Sozzy telling him a Japanese folk tale about the moon because Sokka had asked him to tell him a fucking bedtime story, he thought that Sozzy’s voice sounded like Zuko’s. He hadn’t said so. He wondered now how the fuck Sozzy would have responded if he had.

“You’re Sozzy.”

“Yeah.” Sokka could see Sozzy’s eyes glaze over with tears. He didn’t need to pretend to keep anger from his voice because there was none. There was just—hollow confusion.

“You’re Zuko.”

“Yeah.” Sozzy-Zuko’s voice shook.

They stared at each other in silence for a long, long moment. If someone told Sokka it had only been thirty seconds, he’d believe it. If someone told Sokka it had been thirty hours, he’d believe that too. 

It was Suki’s voice that broke him from his stupor, and by the way Sozzy-Zuko jumped, Sokka guessed he had heard it too. “Okay. Okay,” Sokka inhaled-exhaled as deeply as he could. “I have to—go back to the front, uh, I’m—uh. I have to process this. But I really—I really don’t want to stop looking at your face because this is the craziest fucking thing that has ever happened to me.”

Sozzy-Zuko winced, his face melting into clear regret. “Sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

Sokka interrupted, trying to stop Sozzy’s— _Zuko’s_ —doubts in their tracks. “If I call later, will you pick up?”

“What?” Zuko blinked. Sokka had succeeded.

“If I call,” he repeated, a little slower, “will you pick up?”

“I—I have a photoshoot until, uh. Midnight. Your time.”

“If I call after midnight?”

“I’ll answer.”

“Swear?”

“I swear. I’m sorry—”

“Shut up,” Sokka said, still, even in his shock, unbelievably fond. “This is just—fucking wild. You know that, right?”

“I know,” Zuko said, rubbing the scarred size of his face self-consciously. “I—Tomkin said I should. I didn’t want to keep lying to you, Sokka—”

First of all, Zuko (Zuko of _Soolong._ ) had said his name, with his mouth, in his voice. Sokka thought he shouldn’t give him the satisfaction or panic of voicing how absolutely crazy _that_ was. “Holy shit,” he said instead. “Tomkin told you to call me. Well, fuck. Maybe I have a new bias.”

That startled a laugh out of Zuko. He looked shocked at himself, and Sokka grinned in satisfaction. Life was coming back to Zuko’s eyes. “I, uh. I hope not.”

Sokka laughed. “Maybe not. We’ll see.”

Suki yelled from the front, a little louder than before. “ _Sokka_!” He could hear the unmistakable gaggle of dance students who had just gotten out of class.

“I have to go. But I guess—you never really told me you were anyone else. Other than—not your name. So maybe you didn’t lie. All the way. Thanks for, uh,” Sokka laughed a little at himself, tugging on his wolf-tailed hair. “I have to go or Suki will kill me. After midnight, okay?”

Zuko nodded. He seemed to have run out of words, but that was enough for now.

“Okay. See you later, Sozz.” It felt like an in-joke already. He hung up and took a steadying breath before going back to work, ready to make a shitton of bland smoothies. 

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Zuko goes through the motions: up, teeth, shower, dress, breakfast, car, photoshoot, look, smile, smile again, and again, again, again. There are a few motions he goes through that aren’t part of his regular regiment: ignore Lee’s oblivious jokes, ignore Lu Ten and Toklo’s unknowing concern, ignore Tomkin altogether. That last motion was much, much more difficult than the rest. Everywhere he looked, Tomkin was there, shooting him curious looks or supportively touching his elbow or fixing his hair or silently asking how it went with a thumbs up or thumbs down or thumbs in the middle, none of which Zuko responded to.

As soon as they were out of earshot of photographers who could spill a story and the boys Zuko wasn’t ready to tell, Tomkin nudged his shoulder. “Hey, really, how did it go?”

Zuko shrugged, which was an honest response in itself. “We’re calling later.”

“That’s good, right? That’s good!”

“I don’t know,” Zuko groaned a little, rubbing his face and undoubtedly messing up the makeup that had been carefully applied to him upon arrival. “I don’t know, he seemed—he hung up on me at first.”

Tomkin raised his eyebrows. “He was that mad?”

Zuko shrugged. “He said—something about a hallucination, I don’t know, I was too busy not throwing up.”

The photographer called the group to attention and Tomkin mercifully let it go, squeezing Zuko’s shoulder and going off to be posed under the fake snowfall. Zuko sighed when one of the makeup artists caught sight of his smudged eyeliner, but gave in to her fussing without reluctance, glad to have a distraction from the gloomy cloud of anxiety that was thundering in his head.

Sokka would see him again. Zuko would see Sokka. He just had to get through another five hours of this first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ once again: tomkin belongs to [hella1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella1975/pseuds/hella1975), toklo belongs to [muffinlance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance), tgiving belongs to [nettlewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nettlewine/pseuds/nettlewine)  
> ✩ sorry ive been shit at responding to comments the past couple of days, i got distracted by reading fic.


	14. fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ happy friday my dudes  
> ✩ heads up that these next few chapters will be posted later in the day bc im not working and i love 2 sleep

Suki had spent the rest of their shift not-so-subtly trying to pry answers from him, but Sokka couldn’t bring himself to tell her about _everything_ just yet. His relationship with Sozzy had always felt private, and this new development was, of course, even more so. It had been quiet and meaningful and intimate in a way that none of his other friendships were. After all, Sozzy was _just_ Sokka’s friend. No one else knew Sozzy, and no one knew Sokka the way he did. He had told Sozzy things he’d _never_ tell anyone else, about his feelings and his mother and his doubts and hopes and dreams. Knowing Sozzy was _Zuko_ changed things. How could it not? But Sokka had not quite landed on how.

“Sure you don’t want a ride home?” Suki asked, unlocking her car with a beep.

“No, thanks. I want to walk.”

Suki shrugged and gave him a final suspicious look. “Not ugly?”

Sokka answered as he had the past twenty times she had asked. “Not ugly.”

“Hot?”

“Hot.”

Suki nodded, satisfied. She knew that he’d end up telling her about the whole ordeal sooner rather than later, as he did with all the drama that went on in his life. He waved her off and put his earbuds in, playing—nothing. He looked at his phone and frowned, scrolling through his _recently played._

_Soolong. Soolong. Soolong. Blue Spirit. LEE. Soolong. Blue Spirit. Soolong._

Well. Fuck.

With a sigh, he started on his way home in silence, trying his damndest to work through the situation without talking to himself and spooking the other people on the sidewalk. He was feeling a lot of things all at once, thoughts jumbling themselves up in his head and creating a puzzle that he had to sort out to make the correct shape. He could visualize it: [a six-piece star puzzle](https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0181/8685/products/Star_Puzzle.jpg?v=1571438516) like the one that Uncle Bato had given him for Christmas when he was twelve, the one Sokka had spent the entire day trying to solve and ignored all the other presents and meals and guests for, only to realize that night that he had lost a piece under the couch and had therefore been trying to solve the impossible. He had snuck downstairs to retrieve it, and his dad and uncle had found him asleep in front of it the next morning, hugging the solved puzzle to his chest like a teddy bear.

He had all but one of the pieces here, too. He just had to find it. The first piece was the wild thrill that came from unexpectedly meeting his favorite celebrity. The second was the wild thrill that came from finally talking to his favorite person. The third was the shocked hurt that came from learning that his favorite person was his favorite celebrity and he had kept something so huge from him. The fourth was burning anger that Sozzy had been his friend for two years (and his _best_ friend for at least one), and hadn’t thought before then that Sokka was worthy of _knowing him_ the way he knew Sokka. The last known piece was a vague understanding of why Sozzy had held that secret so close, even though he had said Sokka was his best friend too. 

_I should talk to Sozzy about this_ , Sokka thought. He stopped in his tracks. There was the missing piece.

He wanted to talk to Sozzy about this, wanted to talk to Sozzy about Zuko, wanted to talk to Sozzy who was Zuko about Zuko who was Sozzy. He wanted to hear Zuko’s stupid voice again, listen to his stupid words, look at his stupid face—there was no one in the world he’d rather talk to. That hadn’t changed.

It had taken twenty-five minutes to come to this conclusion, and twenty-six minutes to arrive at his apartment. There were five hours and thirty-four minutes til midnight. _God damn it._

Sokka: im gonna stream that game you like bc i know u cant watch it  
Sokka: payback  
Sokka: we’re even now

He hoped that sent the right message. He knew Sozzy, which meant he knew Zuko. Conflicted or not, he didn’t want to send him spiraling more than he likely had already. He hoped that the quick video he sent of Puck reacting to the “W word” made the spiral a little less vicious, too. Puck probably took some of the spiral for himself with the rapid spins and frantic whines that he started as soon as he heard “walk” come out of Sokka’s mouth. Five hours and twenty-eight minutes now. He could do this. He could get through it.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Zuko’s heart had not stopped racing since Sokka had called. Lu Ten had pulled him aside earlier to ask if he was okay, and Zuko had said “yes.” Toklo had pulled him aside after that to ask if he was okay, and Zuko had said “uh-huh.” Lee had put as many mandarin segments in Zuko’s back pocket as he could without him noticing, and Zuko had said “fuck off, toddler.” Tomkin had herded him into a corner after three hours of Zuko avoiding his pointed silent questions with the intention of asking pointed audible questions, and Zuko had handed him his phone.

Tomkin put in his passcode because he _always_ knew it, no matter what Zuko changed it to. Zuko didn’t try to stop him as he scrolled up through his and Sokka’s text messages, raising his eyebrows. “You guys talk a _lot_.”

Zuko nodded. He didn’t have it in him to blush. 

Scrolling back to that day’s messages, he clicked his tongue and nudged Zuko’s shoulder. “It doesn’t seem that bad. The, uh, the hang-ups were weird, but, I mean, he called back, right? It can’t be all that awful.”

Zuko shrugged. He didn’t have it in him to cry, either, but the tears welling in his eyes didn’t seem to know that. “I don’t know, Tomkin—”

“Oh, hey—” Tomkin gave him a quick hug. “Don’t do that. The makeup noonas will get mad at you.”

Zuko nodded and tucked his chilly nose against Tomkin’s neck just to make him huff. “I’m scared.”

“I know, Z. It’ll be okay.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No, but I think it probably will.”

“You don’t _know_ —” Zuko’s phone pinged in Tomkin’s hand, and Zuko’s world froze.

Sokka: im gonna stream that game you like bc i know u cant watch it  
Sokka: payback  
Sokka: we’re even now

Tomkin gave him a told-you-so grin and ran off when the set director called for him, giving Zuko a moment alone. With shaking hands, Zuko replied.

sozzy: :)

Sokka: that’s supposed to be sad for you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

sozzy: :(

Sokka: midnight still?

sozzy: yeah

Sokka: :)  
Sokka: 🤠😡  
Sokka: wait  
Sokka: 🤠😰  
Sokka: nervous cowboy bc i know thats u  
Sokka: 🤠😩  
Sokka: im BORED cowboy bc midnight is forever away

sozzy: sorry sokka

Sokka: shut up asshole  
Sokka: 🤠😡

Twitch - now  
boomsokkasokka is live: FALL GUYS SRY SZZ. Swipe to watch now.

Having taken Soolong-wrangler position over from the stressed set director, Lu Ten called him to order after a few minutes of Tomkin’s distraction. Zuko still felt the tumultuous cloud in his chest thunder as he was adjusted like a mannequin by a photographer, but it seemed a little quieter, and a little further away.

Sokka’s midnight grew closer and closer, and oddly, the storm in his chest didn’t come back in full force like he expected it to. He spent the ride home voluntarily squished between Tomkin and Lu Ten, leaning heavily on Lu Ten’s accommodating shoulder and gripping Tomkin’s hand with one of his own, and gripping his phone in the other.

He barricaded himself in his room at 1:53, and waited.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

True to his word, Sokka had streamed the game Zuko liked purely because he knew Zuko wouldn’t be able to watch; it was the only amount of vindication Sokka felt was acceptable. Even though it was only eight-ish when he went live ( _three hours and forty-seven minutes_ ), Sokka couldn’t help but to check the clock every time he had a chance to look away from the screen. Time always passed so slowly when he was waiting for something, and he had never been waiting for something more intensely than he was waiting for this. He took a break to walk around the block with Puck a few times just to try to speed it up. He got back with one hour and eighteen minutes to spare, took a deep breath, and dove right back into the game.

At 11:53, he gave up pretending that he could do anything else but stare at the clock. At 11:59, his mind shut down as he frantically wondered what he would do if Zuko didn’t answer, what he would do if Zuko had changed his mind, what he would do if Zuko cut himself out of his life. At 12:05, he called.

Zuko picked up immediately, and Sokka’s fears disappeared in a puff of smoke. “Hi,” his campfire kindling voice was breathy, nervous, hopeful.

“Hi,” Sokka replied with a soft smile. He knew it was obvious that he was looking over Zuko’s face, mapping and memorizing and quickly reigning in his disbelief that this was _real_. Zuko was Sozzy, Sozzy was Zuko, and Zuko was beautiful. “How was your day?”

Zuko blinked, taken aback by the (so-far) normal conversation, the one they had every time they called. “Uh. Good. I just got home. But—it’s only two, so I have some day left.” He paused before asking his own question, clearly wondering if it was an acceptable question, like the dumbass he was. “How was yours?”

“Oh, it was fucking crazy. Listen to this—my favorite idol who knows he’s my favorite idol decided to tell me who he was after a fucking _year_ of being best friends—”

“Are we still best friends?” Zuko asked abruptly. His face was open and soft and vulnerable and Sokka wanted to do nothing more than assuage his worry with the absolute truth, so he did.

“Yeah, we are. Just because you’re famous doesn’t mean I’m not gonna call you a fucking loser and I can only do that with best friends,” Sokka laughed, and Zuko laughed, and everything snapped into place all at once.

“I know I’m a fucking loser, Sokka, you don’t have to tell me.”

“I gotta keep you in your place, right?” Sokka knew he would never, ever get over the relief and happiness in Zuko’s eyes, the emotions evident over the screen. He would never get over the crackly laugh that he always told Sozzy he loved because he _did_ , would never get over it coming out of Zuko’s mouth. He would never get over how good it felt to see Zuko’s stupid face, _Sozzy’s_ stupid face, and know that without a doubt, he’d see it again, and again, and again. There was no way this was a one-off. They both knew it.

“I’m sorry I made your day weird,” Zuko said, a little bashful.

“Bro, there is _nothing_ that could have made this normal. You could have been, like—you know those scam emails people used to get all the time, about mysterious princes who got stranded and said if you sent them like, a hundred dollars or something, they’d give you their riches? You know?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Zuko grinned like he could listen to Sokka talk about things he didn’t know about all the time. Sokka knew that Sozzy could, and there was no reason for Zuko to be different.

“Well—that’s a thing, and it would have been almost as weird if you were one of those fake princes trying to run a long con on me, and it would have been almost as weird if you were some nobody from Wisconsin, and it would have been almost as weird if you were a literal alien—”

“But only almost?”

“But only almost,” Sokka agreed. “I’ve fucking talked about you, dude. I’ve talked about you _to_ you.”

“I know,” Zuko couldn’t help but grin, going red and rubbing the back of his neck. “I really, uh. I appreciate it. Always nice to meet a fan.”

Sokka let out a bark of a laugh, Puck woofed from the room over. “Oh, _fuck you,_ Zuko. I’m gonna make you tell me about your day, superstar, since you can actually say shit about it now.”

“Superstar?”

“I didn’t like saying it, don’t worry, that’s a one-off thing. You had a photoshoot? Give me some spoilers.”

Zuko laughed, and told him. He kept telling him things, things he had wanted to tell Sokka all along, when he had locked himself into anonymity and could only reciprocate a third of what Sokka had given him. He told him embarrassing stories about himself to make up for some of his silence, he told him embarrassing stories about the others to make up for more. He made Sokka laugh, and made Sokka smile, and made Sokka feel like the sun was rising in his chest even as the moon rose higher and higher outside.

Sokka interrupted him during one of his Lee stories with a loud gasp, leaping up from his bed and running to the kitchen, muttering, “You fucking asshole. You _fucking_ asshole—” and flipped the camera to show him the framed photograph above the sink that read ‘Hey Sucker, wash the fucking dishes sometimes. x, Zuko,’ still raving curses at him. Zuko had _lost it_ as he read and remembered, and Sokka couldn’t help but lose it right along with him. Katara emerged from her room to half-glare, half-question, and Sokka told her with a grin that he was talking to Sozzy, don’t worry about it, he’d tell her later.

Sokka showed him Puck, kissed his head when Zuko asked him to, convinced him to do tricks for treats and gave him treats when he didn’t anyway because his big brown eyes were too cute to resist. Zuko showed him the black cat plush he kept under his pillow to keep the guys from making fun of him too much. Sokka showed him his collection of signed pucks, including one he had pressed to Puck’s painted paw. Zuko showed him his collection of awards for his solo work that he kept on his desk. Sokka showed him the mountain of textbooks he had finally gotten for his first semester at MIT, groaning at some of the titles and flipping through the more interesting ones to show him some of the cool architecture sketches he had found. Zuko showed him a picture of Puck that he had lovingly printed out and framed a few months back.

They didn’t hang up until Sokka was legitimately falling asleep four hours later, holding the phone at an awkward angle to accommodate Puck who had forced himself into his arms and to ensure that his dying phone stayed plugged in.

“I should go,” Zuko said, quiet and smiling. He hadn’t stopped smiling for hours. Sokka had noticed.

“Noooo,” Sokka protested sleepily. “Want to keep looking at you.”

Zuko grinned and rubbed his nose, and Sokka wanted that image to stay in his mind forever, so he closed his eyes to keep it there. “You’re not even looking at me.”

“Uh-huh,” Sokka argued? Agreed? He wasn’t sure.

“I need to eat dinner, and you need to sleep.” Zuko cracked up when Sokka stuck his tongue out. “We can—we can call tomorrow? If you want?”

“ _Yeah_ , I want. Loser.”

“Kay.” Sokka didn’t need to open his eyes to hear the grin in Zuko’s voice. “Night, Sokka.”

“Night, Zuko.”

 _Start of something even better,_ Sokka thought, drifting to sleep quick and easy.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Zuko was still grinning when he came out to dinner, feeling lighter than he had in months. He laughed at Lee’s chopstick walrus tusks, rolled his eyes at Lu Ten’s dad jokes, tattled on Toklo for being on his phone, and nudged knees with Tomkin under the table, shrugging happily at his questioning look.

Tomkin grinned and forced him to play Dance Dance Revolution in exchange for the initial push.

Zuko just laughed, won, and could only keep thinking, _Start of something even better._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ as always tomkin belongs to [hella1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella1975/pseuds/hella1975), toklo belongs to [muffinlance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance), read this check please coraline au by [nettlewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nettlewine/pseuds/nettlewine)  
> ✩ if u want vibes, check out my soolong (((bts.))) playlist that i just added more stuff to and also my tumblr @ kouje if ur so inclined  
> ✩ dont hold me to it but i think… i think there will be 25 chapters. i think. i think.  
> ✩ luv u guys, thank you for all of ur comments lmao i love talking to you and also i think it’s hilarious to see how many comments this less-than-50k-words and barely-2-weeks-old fic has. kills me every time


	15. fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ happy saturday ish!  
> ✩ this is a short one but what can u do  
> ✩ ive been doing nothing but watching bts content and not writing all day, see the end notes for what im considering soolong character development  
> ✩ luv u guuuys hope u enjoy

The Sozzy Revelation had not changed much about Sokka and Zuko’s relationship, not nearly as much as Sokka had subconsciously expected it to. Zuko still made the same half-outdated references, still laughed at Sokka’s admittedly-awful puns, still called him as soon as they were both available, eagerly taking advantage of rare overlaps in their schedules—only, now, Zuko attached a face to it.

The first time that Zuko had sent a picture of _himself_ in response to his usual morning Puck Pic, Sokka had felt the whole situation solidify. Sozzy was Zuko, Zuko was Sozzy, Zuko-neé-Sozzy was still Sokka’s best friend. And, of course, Zuko-neé-Sozzy still had a vice grip on his heart, as proven by the way Sokka’s brain had short-circuited as soon as he saw Zuko’s sleepy face, his cheek smushed against the pillow as he held up a finger heart in response to Puck looking miserable in a yellow raincoat.

sozzy: free him  
sozzy: monster  
sozzy: he wants the rain and u know it

Sokka grinned, set the selfie as his lock screen, and changed the contact name to zuko.

Sokka: he wants the rain but i do not want the wet dog smell dude.

Zuko sent another selfie, still in bed, cheek still smushed, but frowning dramatically and holding the finger heart upside down. Sokka set it as his wallpaper.

Sokka had it bad and he _knew_ it. He had it bad when he was chatting to some mysterious stranger during his streams, he had it worse when he started texting him, had it even _worse_ when they started _calling_ , and now? It was above and beyond.

While it was still a lot to process, Sokka found himself almost grateful for their unconventional meeting. If he had met Zuko-as-Zuko two years and some months back, he would have flipped the fuck out, embarrassing himself and probably Zuko and destroying any hope of a normal friendship. If he had discovered Sozzy-as-Zuko a year and some back, it would have been the same. Sokka would have freaked out in disbelief and Zuko would have run off and what friendship remained after that, if any, would be frayed. But now—he and Zuko had built up a solid foundation, one that wasn’t filled with a pseudo power-differential, one with no hero worship or unreasonable expectations or weird fantasies well. _Well._ ), and it was _good._ Zuko being Zuko was just another fact to work with, another brick to add to the foundation.

His crush on Zuko was another fact, but that was a harder brick to find a place for. Even with a more balanced beginning, the fact remained that Zuko was an award-winning, record-breaking, internationally beloved idol and Sokka was—Sokka, a Twitch-streaming barista with half of a college degree. He had Puck, though, and that was a solid plus. Even with Puck, however, Sokka told himself that he had no reason to rationally believe that Zuko might like him _back_ , that they were too different and too far apart and too busy and too _everything,_ but there were so many little things that gave Sokka pause.

Zuko laughed at his jokes, and raved about his dog, and helped him with problems, and listened to him rant about urban transit and hypothetical dinosaurs and vintage games and anything else that came to Sokka’s mind, and Zuko acted like all of this slotted into his life perfectly. But he could be this way with _everyone_. Without a solid comparison of what constituted Zuko’s normal ‘friendly’ versus potential ‘flirting’, Sokka was at a loss, and he couldn’t make his brain stop _wishing._ He had convinced himself that it would take a face-to-face meeting, in person and real, to make his brain shut up.

Twitter - now  
SOOLONG  
@soolong  
[SELF INTERNATIONAL TOUR - LOCATIONS & DATES. TICKET SALES START THIS WEDNESDAY, 00:00 KST / 09:00 CST / 15:00 GMT]

Sokka _objectively_ knew that Soolong was going on another tour soon; he _objectively_ knew that that tour would take them through the US; he _objectively_ knew that Boston was almost always a tour stop, but seeing the official announcement threw that objectivity into a whirlwind-like reality. Boston was tucked snugly between New York City and New Delhi, and Soolong was set to have two performances—two days of _Zuko_ , here, exactly where Sokka wanted him to be, just two months away. Sokka took a screenshot of the announcement, circled Boston in bright red, and sent it off.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Sokka: 👀👀👀  
Sokka: s o o o o o o

Zuko _objectively_ knew that their international tour was starting soon; he _objectively_ knew that they would be stopping in Boston; he _objectively_ knew that he would be where Sokka was for a short amount of time. Staring at the tour announcement, with Boston circled in what Zuko could only read as accusation, his breath caught in his throat.

What if Sokka was mad? What if Sokka didn’t want him there? What if Sokka thought he manipulated the schedule to be near Sokka without even _asking_ him first? What if—

zuko: sorry

Sokka: what did i say about saying sorry??

zuko: not to for no reason  
zuko: but there is a reason, im sorry i didnt tell you about the tour, i didnt mean to put you in an awkward position  
zuko: you don’t have to come if you dont want to  
zuko: i swear im not expecting anything we just always go to boston

Sokka: b r o  
Sokka: rephrase my man what are you thinking

That was an Iroh trick, one that had been passed to Lu Ten that had been passed to Tomkin and now apparently Sokka had figured it out on his own. To figure out how to phrase the problem, Zuko had to _think_ about the problem in a way that usually kept him from being sucked into a depressive and anxious black hole.

zuko: youre mad i didnt tell you about the tour but i thought you would say you didnt want to go so i didnt want to make you feel like you had to

Sokka called him right as the hairdresser moved on to Tomkin, and Zuko answered, careful to not mess with the dye that had been left to set.

“ _What_ gave you the impression that I’d be mad?” Sokka asked, not bothering with any sort of greeting.

“Uh.” Zuko scratched his knee just for the sensation. “I don’t know. Nothing.”

“Are you sure it’s nothing? If there is something, I promise it’s completely unintentional.”

“I just—thought maybe you wouldn’t. I dunno.”

“Zuko, buddy, that’s the stupidest thing I have ever heard. Of course I want to see you!” Zuko could picture Sokka’s eye roll; he had caused it enough that he could spot the vocal cues.

“You do? You’re not just saying that?”

Sokka blew a raspberry. “When have I ever said anything just to say it? Not like that—” he interrupted Zuko before he could say anything. “I know I like to talk. When have I said anything I don’t mean?”

“Never,” Zuko admitted with a quiet sigh. 

“Never! This is no different, man. You want to see me, right?” For all of Sokka’s confidence, Zuko heard the question in his voice; a real worry posed as a hypothetical.

“What? _Yes_!” Zuko couldn’t help but yell, ignoring Lee’s “ _Just let me sleep!”_ from beside him.

“Cool, so we’re gonna hang out and have a ton of fun and you’re not allowed to argue or worry about it or whatever, okay?”

“Okay. Okay. You really—” he stopped himself with a bashful grin. “Okay. Thanks.”

“Fuck off,” Sokka said fondly. “I gotta go to hockey practice but I’ll text you when I get back. See you later, cowboy.”

Zuko groaned and let his head drop back, the foils in his hair crinkling. “I hate that. Bye, asshole.”

Sokka hung up with a laugh, and Zuko felt warmth sweep over him.

Tomkin caught his eye from across the room and mouthed, ‘gay.’

Zuko laughed and shook his head, grinning at himself in the mirror for the first time in what felt like years.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

“Dude, what the fuck?” Sokka burst out as soon as Zuko answered his phone the next day. He knew Zuko was in the middle of a shoot, but also knew he would have a conniption fit if he didn’t talk to him right that second.

“Are we just done with hellos now?” Zuko asked with a grin. “This is becoming a pattern.”

“First of all, three is a pattern, we’re at two. Second of all, what the _fuck_?”

Zuko laughed again, bright and happy. “I don’t have headphones in, don’t yell so loud. I thought you wouldn’t mind.”

“Are you kidding me?” Sokka asked, tugging his hair. “Of course I mind that you did the most batshit thing imaginable?”

“It’s not that crazy, Sokka.”

“It’s backstage passes to the Boston show? That is, _uh_ , pretty fucking crazy!”

“Why?” Zuko said, smile starting to slowly fall.

“I’d never be able to afford them in my life, Zuko. I can’t accept these, dude, you know to know that.” Zuko stared at him, confused. _Rich boys_ , Sokka thought. 

“You do realize,” Zuko said after a moment, “that it costs me literally zero dollars.”

Sokka paused. “Well.”

“And I’d pay, like, _anything_ to be able to hang out with you. You know. In person.”

Sokka paused again, cheeks prickling with a rising blush. “Well.”

“But if you mind—” Zuko was grinning, the little shit.

“Nah! No! No, it’s chill, it’s chill. It’s super cool. It’s, like, the most normal everyday thing to happen to me, don’t worry.”

Zuko laughs, and Sokka is in love. “Okay, good. Our break’s almost up, but I’ll try to call later.”

“I have work but I’ll try to answer.”

“Don’t piss Suki off again.”

Sokka stuck his tongue out. “I won’t! I learned my lesson. Swear to God, I still smell like furniture polish, she made me clean _so many chairs_.”

Zuko grinned and held up a finger heart to his cheek. It was second nature to him, Sokka had learned, from years of taking selfies with fans and striking the same pose. Every single time, Sokka got flushed and flustered, and he could only hope Zuko didn’t notice. “Bye, Sokka.”

“Bye, Zuko.”

Sokka received a text from an unknown number a few minutes later. It was a picture of Zuko, perched on a pillar of their current set, legs swinging, grinning widely at his phone. For lack of a better word, Sokka thought, he looked _smitten_.

Unknown: :) - toklo

Fucking— _Toklo_. First Zuko, then Tomkin, now _Toklo._ Sokka was collecting idol interactions every other day.

Sokka: what is my life  
Sokka: :)  
Sokka: thanks. i like that boy

Toklo: yeah i think he likes you too

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ as always tomkin belongs to [hella1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella1975/pseuds/hella1975), toklo belongs to [muffinlance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance), life or whatever belongs to [nettlewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nettlewine/pseuds/nettlewine)  
> ✩ [zuko’s hair inspo](https://pm1.narvii.com/6520/6fe14bbe58a5448ee4992ec3292f396bd3a22761_hq.jpg) bc it looks like a shiny butterfly wing in motion and i love to wild out  
> ✩ [soolong content](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gFYAXsa7pe8&ab_channel=NPRMusic)  
> ✩ [lu ten content](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ddr4AlbwMJ0&ab_channel=BANGTANWorld)  
> ✩ [toklo content](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y020rlnIgFY&ab_channel=Lemoring)  
> ✩ [zuko content](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-moUJ3Lw_TQ&ab_channel=MnetK-POP)  
> ✩ [tomkin content](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cFCPnjsAdY4&ab_channel=MrsJK)  
> ✩ [lee content](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yE-4gjtKjyY&ab_channel=4bangtan)


	16. sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ sunday! happy one  
> ✩ ok this chapter is set up a little weird but the first part and last part are all Current (aka a couple weeks after the big reveal) and the middle parts are all within a few days of The Call  
> ✩ ik the timeline of this fic is confusing so i wanted to give a comprehensive ish guide, hopefully it makes a little more sense lmao:
> 
> 0 yr 0 mo: zuko starts watching sokka's streams  
> 0 yr 5 mo: still watching streams, sokka always says hi to him  
> 0 yr 5 mo 1 wk: out of the ashes release aka sokka reveals his knowledge of / bias for zuko  
> 0 yr 5 mo-0 yr 10 mo: WORLD TOUR (5 months)  
> july: start of world tour near the end of the month so im not counting it in the timeline lol  
> august: zuko starts talking in the chat regularly  
> oct: uneventful  
> nov: zuko meets katara at the signing  
> dec: end of world tour, snowstorm in russia aka they start texting  
> 1 yr 3 mo: they start calling  
> 1 yr 9 mo: they start video calling

Twitch - now  
boomsokkasokka is live: SOKKA EXPLAINS ALL (hokky 4 sozzy). Swipe to watch now.

Sokka adjusted his camera against the glass surrounding the rink, making an intentionally stupid face because there was no way he could be cute so close to the screen. Once he was satisfied with the angle, he pulled back and struck a dramatic pose on the ice.

“What is _up_ , YouTube, like comment subscribe for more ice content, today’s video is sponsored by Sozzy telling me he didn’t know anything about hockey and then making the mistake of telling me he wanted to learn!”

ki_kyoshi: do a flip  
moon.mochi: do a flip  
sozzy: do a flip

“Fuck you all,” Sokka said cheerfully. “Okay, this is icing—”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

[Group Chat - Heartbreakers International]

sookee: SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS?  
yooee: SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS?  
sokkee: SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS?  
sookee: SHOTS  
yooee: SHOTS  
sokkee: SHOTS

Sokka knew it was a ploy as soon as he got to the bar the night after The Call, where Suki and Yue gave him matching wiggly-finger waves from their usual table. He expected it from _Suki_ , but he had falsely hoped Yue held his privacy in higher regard. He sighed as he slid into the other side of the booth and took a long gulp of his already-waiting beer. “Okay,” he said after he felt sufficiently prepared to address his ex-girlfriends’ anticipatory stares. “Shoot.”

“So you talked to Sozzy,” Yue said, immediately diving in.

“I’ve _been_ talking to Sozzy.” Sokka knew it was no use to argue semantics, but he might as well try.

Suki rolled her eyes. “Not like this, you haven’t.”

“Okay, yeah, maybe,” he took another sip to put it off. “What about it?”

“You said he was hot,” said Suki. “But _how_ hot? And hot how?”

Sokka snorted and pointed at her and then Yue before making a firework bang gesture, grinning at Yue’s affronted gasp.

“No way. No one’s hotter than Suki.”

“Me? No one’s hotter than _Yue_!”

“No one's hotter than Sozzy. Look, you’re not going to believe me. I _know_ you’re not,” Sokka said, ignoring Suki’s “ _Damn right!”_ and sighing. “Listen. Think about the hottest person alive. Think about—like, the hottest star, the hottest boy, the hottest person to have the hots for.”

“Zuko.” Suki didn’t have to think about it.

“Lu Ten,” Yue said, then considered. “Zuko too.”

“Yeah.” Judging by their stares, that wasn’t enough. “Yes. Him.”

“You’re gonna have to expand.”

“Zuko Sozin.”

“Zuko Sozin?” Suki’s eyes narrowed. “Bullshit, I’m calling bullshit.”

“I’m calling catfish!” said Yue, wide-eyed.

Sokka groaned and threw his arms up. “I told you you wouldn’t believe me! But it’s—Sozzy. Sozin, Zuko. Sozzy.”

“Bullshit,” Suki repeated.

“Catfish,” Yue insisted.

“Neither,” Sokka pulled out his phone. During last night’s call, Zuko had taken him on a semi-tour of his room and showed him a framed picture of Puck, which had subsequently sent Sokka’s heart soaring. Zuko had acquiesced and posed with it when Sokka asked him to, allowing him to take a screenshot that Sokka planned to hang on his own wall. A picture within a picture, a dream within a dream. It doubled as convenient proof that he wouldn’t have had otherwise.

“Bullshit.”

“Catfish.” Yue took his phone to look at the recognizable picture of Puck. “A really thorough catfish.”

“Haven’t you seen _90-Day Fiance?_ What’s the point of faking a relationship with zero payoff?” Suki and Yue both looked at him oddly and he shifted in his seat, taking another sip as a distraction.

“A relationship?” said Suki. “Are you in a relationship?”

Sokka went red and he couldn’t help but sputter. “What? No, no, that’s—no, we’re not, that’s not what I meant.”

“It sounded like that,” said Yue, still looking at him pensively.

“It sounded like you wouldn’t _mind_ that,” said Suki.

Sokka stuck out his tongue, quickly retracting it when she kicked at him under the table. He knew that she didn’t mean what he has said in the past thirty seconds. It was more like what he had said in the past _year_ , when his Sozzy-obsession had gotten a little too real and a little too obvious. “That doesn’t matter right now, come on. Here I am for a good drink and good company, and what do I get? An inquisition!”

Yue laughed, and no matter how long they had been broken up and how long she had been dating Suki, both of them looked at her with doe-eyes and warm hearts. “If you didn’t know to expect an inquisition you’re more of a hockey boy than I thought.”

“Which is a lot,” clarified Suki.

“You play, too!” he protested, aghast. “Hockey girls can’t be that different.”

“Hm,” Yue said, giving Suki an adoring glance. “I’m the only person here with dual experience and I say they very much are.”

“Unbelievable,” Sokka grumbled. “An inquisition and an unfair jury.”

“No jury,” Yue chimed pleasantly, giving him a sweet smile. “Just a judge.”

Sokka sighed and downed the rest of his beer. “I’ll tell you more if you get me another drink,” he said, and felt only a little bit satisfied when Suki immediately raised her hand to wave over a waiter. It was going to be a long, love-sick night.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

The night after The Call, Zuko had almost had a heart attack. Tomkin, who was the worst best friend in existence, had sat in Zuko’s desk chair, back turned to the door, spinning to face him slowly and showy as soon as Zuko turned the light on.

“FUCK!” Zuko screamed, throwing his water bottle at him reflexively. Tomkin didn’t even give him the grace of being hit and caught it easily, taking a dramatic sip. “What the _fuck_ , why?”

Tomkin rolled his eyes and slumped down. “Uh, because you haven’t told me anything and I desperately want to know?”

Zuko clicked his tongue and made a grabbing motion for his water, and Tomkin, as the best worst friend, waited til he was closer to throw it to him, with Zuko’s less-than-perfect depth-perception in mind. “Why should I tell you after you scared me like that?”

“ _Uh—_ ” Tomkin started. He looked like he was about to start counting reasons with his fingers.

Zuko was quick to stop him, sitting cross legged in front of him at the end of his bed. “Okay, yeah, I know, I know. It was good.”

Tomkin stared expectantly, waiting a long moment for him to continue. “ _Zuko_ —”

Zuko grinned. “It was good. Uh, we talked for—a long time. I got to see Puck, his dog, in like, real time, and I showed him that.” He pointed at the picture of Puck on the wall. Lu Ten had asked him about it a few months back and Zuko had replied, truthfully, that he just liked the dog. He didn’t have to specify why. “I told him about the time you fell asleep during stage rehearsal and fell off the prop—”

“No!” Tomkin squawked, reaching out to shove his knee. “He’s gonna get the wrong impression, you have to make me sound cool.”

“I’ve lied to him enough,” Zuko said breezily, laughing when Tomkin shoved him again. “We’re going to call again soon.” His stomach fluttered at the thought. “I like him.”

“No shit.” Tomkin grinned and flopped on the bed beside him, grabbing one of Zuko’s pillows to hug. “So he wasn’t mad?”

“I guess not. I don’t—understand why he isn’t, though, it doesn’t make sense.”

“Who cares if it doesn’t make sense?” he said, waving a dismissive hand. “All that matters is how it turned out, and it sounds like it’s turning out well, so.” He shrugged. “Why question it?”

“What if he changes his mind, though? What if he is mad and he just hasn’t told me yet?”

“Then we can deal with that if it comes. But he seems like a heart-on-his-sleeve type of guy, doesn’t he? Why would he build up anger he could have just—let out right away? Even if he’s a little mad, he still wants to talk to you. And you were on the phone for _hours_ , we kept putting off dinner—”

“You did?” Zuko bit his lip and glanced at him. “Hey, uh, did you—?”

“Nah,” Tomkin said, giving him a reassuring smile. “That’s yours to tell. I just made them get into a super competitive game of Monopoly for a couple hours.”

Zuko let him fall back beside him and elbowed him gratefully. “What do I owe you?”

Predictably, Tomkin beamed and reached for the remote. “Hell yeah, hell yeah, hell yeah—”

It wasn’t a bad payment, though Zuko made a strong effort to hide his heartfelt tears at Tomkin’s drama. He didn’t need to give Tomkin the satisfaction.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Katara was already gone by the time Sokka woke up the morning after The Call, but she dragged Aang over for a late dinner in celebration of an aced legal research paper, one that a still-tipsy Sokka gladly forced his way into when he got home from the bar.

“You know how I talked to Sozzy last night?” he asked, shoveling chow mein into his mouth.

“Uh, I know how you talked to Sozzy til _six in the morning_ , yes,” Katara huffed and tossed him a napkin, but Sokka could tell she was _curious_.

“It was _four_ in the morning, thank you.” He grinned and stole her wine glass. “You know Zuko?”

Aang had been spectating as he ate, used to Sokka and Katara and the Way They Were. “From the boyband?”

“From the I-POP group,” Sokka corrected, huffing at Aang’s shrug. “Yeah. Same person.”

Katara _likely_ thought he was more drunk than he let on and he took another bite, looking at her with twinkling eyes. “What?”

“Sozzy. Zuko. Same person.” He pulled up the picture he had shown Suki and Yue and handed his phone over with a grin.

Katara stared at it for a long moment before passing it to Aang, who just gave it a considering nod and an accepting “huh!”

“Huh,” Katara agreed, staring at Sokka in disbelief. “You were yelling about the dishes thing last night.”

“Yeah. Yup.”

“Huh.”

Katara stole her wine back and refilled it, ignoring Sokka’s yell of protest. “Take a plate to your room and bother ‘Zuko’ instead of us, then.”

Sokka laughed and couldn’t care that she didn’t believe him yet. He might as well see if Zuko _was_ available to bother. It was the only thing he had thought about all night anyway.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

A few days after The Call, Zuko finally worked up the courage to talk to Lu Ten. At least he _thought_ he had, until he was standing in front of Lu Ten’s door, wringing his hands and trying to rehearse what to say. Zuko _knew_ he wasn’t in trouble, he wasn’t doing anything bad, not really, but, other than Iroh, Lu Ten was the most paternal figure in his life. He was a good one to have; Zuko didn’t know what his life would be like without Lu Ten looking after him throughout his childhood (and teenhood and adulthood and _life_ ), and he didn’t want to know.

Maybe it was because Zuko sought his approval (consciously: a little, subconsciously: with his entire being) that he found himself stalling, but his hesitation didn’t matter in the end, and Lu Ten’s voice came from behind him. “You okay, kid?”

“Oh, fuck—” Zuko jumped, and Lu Ten clicked his tongue and tugged Zuko’s good ear teasingly.

“Language. Were you looking for me?”

“Uh—” Zuko couldn’t help but leap for the out. “No, just passing by.”

“Yeah, right. Come on.” Lu Ten nudged him to the side as he went into his room, leaving the door open for Zuko to follow.

“Language,” he muttered, closing the door behind him.

Lu Ten snorted and sat in one of the comfy chairs he kept around, used to the youths he cared for wanting his company. “What’s up, Z?”

He sat uncomfortably stiff on the other chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nothing.” Lu Ten’s silent look told him that wouldn’t be enough and Zuko glanced at him. “What has Tomkin told you?”

“Tomkin hasn’t told me anything. You two are the worst liars in the world, bud, I have no idea how you’ve managed to keep whatever this is a secret. But I would like to know.”

Zuko nodded and looked away. “Yeah. It’s just—there’s this guy.”

Though Zuko couldn’t see, Lu Ten’s eyes narrowed. He had one other experience with _a guy_ in Zuko’s life, and, though it wasn’t his cousin’s fault, he didn’t have the best history. That history was entirely encapsulated by _Jet_ , fucking _Jet,_ who had been the worst mistake in all of their lives. Lu Ten doubted Zhao would have listened if they had complained about Jet’s personality, his work ethic, his style, his attitude, his everything, but he really wished they had tried. Jet had fucked them all over, sure, but he had done so through Zuko. He had torn Zuko’s heart from his chest then tried to cram it back in just to rip it out all over again (rinse and repeat).

Jet had dragged Zuko out to a seedy club in Seoul during one of their upswings, had convinced some guy at the bar to hit on him, had convinced Zuko to go for it, had taken pictures of the man _kissing_ Zuko, pressing him against the wall, had sent the pictured directly to Zhao, had caused _Zuko to be hurt_ —Lu Ten didn’t like the idea of Zuko having another _guy._

“Yeah?” Zuko flinched at his tone, and Lu Ten tried to be more generous in his tone. “Tell me about him. What’s he like?”

“He’s—really great, Lu. He’s really kind and funny and fun and smart and _beautiful_ and he—likes me, I think—as a friend,” he quickly added, risking a glance at Lu Ten’s carefully neutral face before looking back to the ground. “He’s not like Jet. Plus, I mean. I’m not with him. We’re just—friends.”

“Uh-huh,” Lu Ten said, unconvinced. “You like him?” Zuko shrugged, and Lu Ten figured that was all he would get. “Where’d you meet?”

Zuko’s unscarred cheek went red. “Internet.”

Lu Ten took a deep breath in. “Zuko—”

“Two years ago, though! So—if it was weird it would have been really weird by now, right? And now—now he knows who I am, and it’s still good, and he lives in the States so I haven’t _met_ him, not really, but I like him and he’s really—I like him—”

“ _Zuko_ ,” Lu Ten leaned forward in the hope of coming off more comforting. It was hard to comfort Zuko when he got frantic, and he wanted to avoid getting to that point. “Hey, okay, you like him, I get it. You’re not together?”

Zuko shook his head, still avoiding his eyes. “No.”

“Why did you—keep it a secret? For two _years_?”

“One year and nine months,” Zuko said quietly. “I don’t know. I felt like I should.”

“Okay,” Lu Ten nodded, trying to accept it. “Okay, why now?”

“Because he didn’t know who I was, but now I told him, and he’s still my best friend.”

Lu Ten was _confused_ , but he could see Zuko was distressed. “Okay. Dad and I are gonna have tea later, want to join?”

“No,” Zuko said, but Lu Ten knew he’d find him ready and waiting when it was time to leave. He got up and finally met his eyes for just a moment. “Thanks.”

“Sure, dragon boy,” Lu Ten grinned. “Shut the door on your way out, I’m gonna work from home.”

Zuko nodded and went to leave, but ducked to give Lu Ten a quick hug around his shoulders before he went. With a grin and a shake of his head, Lu Ten stretched and fired up his editing equipment, determined to churn out the next big hit.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Sokka had met Toph a few months ago during the MIT incoming student orientation. She had been posted up at one of the back tables, arms crossed, head back, and young as all hell. It should have made him feel even more ill-at-ease than he already was; as a clearly-older student and a transfer student, he felt out of his element among fresh young faces wearing nerd glasses and chinos. Toph had looked almost as out of place as he was.

Once she stopped pretending to be asleep, he learned that she was _fifteen_ , an actual baby, also entering the architecture program. She was a hilarious blind genius and they made a quick alliance, glad to find someone out of the ordinary to go through the process with. They were working on a project together a few days after The Call, and Sokka couldn’t resist; he was burning to tell another person about Zuko, just _one more_ , wanting to revel in the excitement.

“Hey,” he said, grinning. “Wanna see my best friend?”

“Is it Puck?”

“Wanna see my best friend other than Puck?”

“Go for it.”

Sokka pulled up one of Zuko’s recent selfies with a grin and slid his phone to her, frowning when she held it up and made a face. “What?”

“You’re friends with _him_? Yikes.”

“Hey!” Sokka squawked, grabbing his phone back and shooting a glare at her that she… couldn’t… see. “Right.”

Toph grinned, toothy. “Fucking dumbass. I know you’re the gross one.”

Sokka squawked again and flicked her shoulder. “You’re the worst. Walk me through this graph again—”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

VLIVE - now  
Soolong: Surprise LIVE with Zuko! 💚🐲💚

Zuko smiled at the camera as the live started, his laptop on the kitchen counter. The chat was immediately flooded with rapid-fire messages that ranged from simple ‘hi’s to ‘rail me’ to ‘omg his hair is in a bun’. Zuko knew which messages to ignore.

“Hi, guys. I thought about how I haven’t done one of these in a while, so I figured I’d, you know. Say hi. Yeah, ha, my hair’s almost long enough to go into a bun now, so, uh, I’ve been doing that lately. I’m cooking today so I can pretend it keeps it out of the way, which is handy.”

He paused to read through what messages he could catch. “Yeah, I haven’t had breakfast. I was thinking about making french toast. It’s easy enough I can hang out while I do it. Watch me burn it this time. I usually don’t, just so you know, I’m an okay cook.”

His phone pinged and he winced, hurrying to grab it. “Sorry, I didn’t know my sound was on—”

Sokka: CUTE  
Sokka: HAIR  
Sokka: CUUUTE

Zuko grinned wide, unscarred eye crinkling at the corners. “Ha, uh, my friend is watching, I think.”

Sokka: YEAH I AM BOI

Laughing, he put his phone down, and the chat was filled with ‘hi, friend!’ and ‘girlfriend??????’ and ‘he’s gay!!!’ He knew to ignore those too.

“Yeah, I’m making french toast. It’s not super healthy but I’ve had a good week, so I can indulge a little, I think.” Zuko smiled, and across the world, Sokka smiled too. 

Zuko worked on making breakfast, taking questions every once in a while when he could move away from the stove. “Am I excited for the tour?” Zuko laughed, making the chat go wild again. “Yeah, of course. I love seeing you guys. Since it’s ‘international’ and not ‘world’, we’ll be doing more signings and events, too, so I hope you can make it.”

Sokka: tell them about the ramen incident

Zuko groaned. “My friend thinks I should tell you something embarrassing, but I don’t know—” As expected, the chat was flooded with ‘please’ and ‘TELL US’ and ‘yesyesyes,’ and Zuko shook his head, sighing deeply. “Okay, so, it started like this—”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ once again: tomkin belongs to [hella1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella1975/pseuds/hella1975), toklo belongs to [muffinlance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance), sanity belongs to [nettlewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nettlewine/pseuds/nettlewine)  
> ✩ [zuko's buuuuun](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/94/cb/3c/94cb3c4a80c84d07f0709c367e4afe52.jpg)  
> ✩ here's a [soolong aka bts playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0aa84Wmh07VPnaymrhVPnD?si=l7PtXq7iTomskCcE6jNkRA) if yall want to listen and also here's my [tumblr](https://kouje.tumblr.com/) shouldst u be interested  
> ✩ hope u guys enjoyed!


	17. seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ monday ! :-)  
> ✩ hope you guys like this boy!

**LONDON** (July 1-2) - **GLASGOW** (July 3) - **DUBLIN** (July 4) - **PARIS** (July 6-7) - **BERLIN** (July 8) - **RIO DE JANEIRO** (July 11-12) - **BUENOS AIRES** (July 13) - **MEXICO CITY** (July 14-15) - **HOUSTON** (July 16) - **DALLAS** (July 17) - **LOS ANGELES** (July 19-20) - **SEATTLE** (July 21) - **VANCOUVER** (July 22)- **EDMONTON** (July 23) - **DENVER** (July 24) - **MINNEAPOLIS** (July 25) - **CHICAGO** (July 26-27) - **NASHVILLE** (July 29-30) - **ATLANTA** (Aug 1) - **WASHINGTON DC** (Aug 3) - **PHILADELPHIA** (Aug 4) - **TORONTO** (Aug 5) - **NEW YORK CITY** (Aug 6-7) - **BOSTON** (Aug 8-9) - **NEW DELHI** (Aug 15) - **MANILA** (Aug 16) - **DHAKA** (Aug 17) - **BEIJING** (Aug 21-22) - **TOKYO** (Aug 24-25) - **SEOUL** (Aug 27-28)

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

VLIVE - now  
Soolong: 🐶 Talkin’ with Tomkin 🐶 Pre-Tour Routine!

“Hey!” Tomkin beamed at his phone as he went live. Viewers were already rolling in, reaching one million within the first minute. “Good morning and also good afternoon and also good night! That should cover all of you, huh? The boys and I have been pretty busy lately so we haven't been able to stream, but I know you know why. We’re flying out to London tomorrow morning _because_ —” he sang, “we're going on tour!”

After skimming the chat, he grinned. “Hell yeah, I love visiting London. I wish we could go on a ghost tour this time around but Toklo’s a wimp and won’t go with me. Plus we don’t really have time, but it’s important to me that you know he’s a _wimp_ and a _baby_ _._ But yeah, Wembley is always a fu—a _great_ kickoff, the London crowd is one of the best.” He laughed as the chat shot off again. “You guys are _all_ the best, don’t worry. I just mean that London is just one of the loudest crowds with, like, a billion people. It’s super fun. _And_ we’re premiering a few new songs this tour, too. Just a few, obvi, we know you guys really want the good stuff.”

He gave the camera an exaggerated mischievous wink. “Today, though, I wanted to show you how we get ready. We’re mostly packed, but we all have, like, pre-tour routines that we do the night before. We’ll be away from home for two months, which isn’t a crazy amount of time, but it’s still intense and something we have to prepare for. I usually take a super long walk to help me sleep, but it’s _pouring_ and I don’t want to.”

Tomkin laughed. “I didn’t tell anyone I was streaming, though, so—I mean, they probably got the notification, but whatever, I don’t think anybody’s watching. Anybody watching?” Tomkin paused and went to the hallway, listening for an answer. “Nobody’s watching,” he confirmed. “Let’s go spy.”

The chat collectively roared with excitement (as well as with requests for Tomkin to show his teeth or hands or blow a kiss or whatever) as he snuck down the hallway, putting his ear against Toklo’s door before shoving it open with no warning. Toklo was sitting on his bed playing Words with Friends on his phone. He looked up at Tomkin, unphased. “Hey.”

Tomkin stared at him. He had clearly been hoping for something embarrassing, as had the chat. “Hey?”

“Sup.” Toklo looked back to his game, not bothering to move.

“I’m, uh, live,” he said, hoping for _some_ kind of reaction.

“Oh, chill. Hi, guys.” He gave a wave, not looking up.

Tomkin frowned. “They say hi. They also say you’re boring.”

“No, they didn’t,” Toklo said, grinning as Tomkin left in a huff. (Unknown to Tomkin, of course, Toklo’s phone _had_ pinged with a live notification. As soon as he left, Toklo resumed sorting through his extensive jewelry collection, trying to figure out which identical-to-everyone-but-him silver rings to take.)

“God, okay, that was a disappointing start, sorry, guys.” Tomkin frowned. “Who next?”

He got a mixed response, but ultimately decided to go with Lu Ten, bursting through the door the same as he had with Toklo. “Ha!” he yelled, and blushed immediately. “Uh!”

The chat was absolutely unreadable, messages flying in rapid-fire. Lu Ten was shirtless and dewy with sweat, in the middle of a pushup when Tomkin walked in, muscles flexed. Lu Ten stared at him, then the phone, and continued steadily. (Unknown to Tomkin, Lu Ten had also received a live notification. Lu Ten had already been in the middle of his daily reps, but he allowed himself a brief pause to take his shirt off. His love language was gift-giving.)

Tomkin was glad the camera was facing away from him; the remnants of his early-career crush had hit him hard and heavy all at once. He backed out slowly and closed the door. “Okay. Yeah, uh. One left?”

In a predictable manner, he opened the door without warning, and Zuko, facing the window and absorbed in his call, took no notice.

“Shut up,” Zuko laughed. “It was one time! One single time and you won’t let me live it down.”

“You don’t deserve to live it down, dumbass, ‘blah blah blah, is it a cartoon?’”

“Yeah, whatever,” Zuko grinned. “Tell me about the cat show.”

“‘The cat show,’ God, you’re the worst. It’s classic children’s programming. I learned literally everything I know from _Sagwa_.”

“Oh, sure, fuck MIT, right?”

“Right! Fuck MIT, all I need is PBS,” Sokka laughed, pausing and bringing the phone close to his face as Zuko adjusted his position. “Either a ghost is behind you or Tomkin is.”

Zuko spun around. “Why does no one know how to _knock_?”

“Uh,” Tomkin said, holding up the camera. “I’m doing a pre-tour tour?”

Zuko stared at him, stared at his phone, then at Tomkin again. “Tomkin.”

“Yeah! Yup, bye!” Tomkin hurried out, running down the hallway just as Lee came in with food. “Oh, thank _God_. Say hi to the people and show us the goods.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Even with a live audience of three million, no one was able to make out the pixelated corner of Zuko’s phone enough to identify Sokka. Zuko hadn’t said his name or anything more revealing than “MIT” and, thankfully, that was not enough of a puzzle piece to bring it all together. Zuko’s moderate panic was quickly put to rest, but he still didn’t let Tomkin sit next to him on the plane the next morning.

For an hour, at least. Tomkin’s sorrowful glances wore him down way too easily and Zuko had sighed and moved his bag from the seat. Tomkin grinned, jumped up, and promptly dragged him into a rousing conversation about what he wanted to eat, where, and why. Zuko leaned into it gratefully, trying to not think about Boston just over a month away.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

In the beginning, Zuko had associated cities with things that happened on stage, and had focused more on mistakes than successes. Their first concert in London under ZhaoWorks felt like a disaster, even though it had gone smoothly in retrospect. Zhao had called him _personally_ to criticize his vocals, his performance, his demeanor, his everything. He spent the night alone in his hotel room, running through routines over and over again until his body refused to let him run another.

After their re-debut, he began to associate cities with concerts and off-stage experiences. Their first concert in London under White Lotus had gone well enough, and they had sold out the twenty thousand seats in the O2. Zuko’s voice had broken, just briefly, during his verse of “Aster,” but Iroh hadn’t pushed him into a studio or given him a derogatory talking to or anything that he had expected. Instead, Iroh had taken them out to one of his friend’s Italian restaurant (he had friends _everywhere_ ) and congratulated them on a job well done, and the start of a new era. The group had been proper tourists the next day, eating pub food and visiting some of the most stereotypical attractions they could think of, including Buckingham Palace and the Tower of London and everything else that was on the top five list on whatever website they had looked at.

Later, with a few tours under his belt, he had associated cities with what Sokka had streamed. After their most recent world tour, he had thought about what he and Sokka had texted about. Now, all he wanted to do was share the cities he saw with Sokka. 

The London kickoff concert was _incredible_ : loud, excited, perfectly orchestrated, and exactly what they needed to feel confident about the upcoming performance-filled months. They had incorporated fancy pyrotechnics to give it more of a bang, and there had been no disasters (or even hiccups). Fans had loved it, reviewers had loved it, _Soolong_ had loved it. They had gotten more than a little tipsy on flights of local ales when they went out afterwards, and ended up eagerly waiting in line for the London Eye, laughing and joking and taking overly-smiley pictures with fans who happened to see them. When they had reached the top of the wheel, Zuko had called Sokka and flipped the camera so he could see their view of the Thames. 

“We should come here together some time so you can see it in person,” Zuko had said, hopeful and honest. Behind him, the others exchanged astounded looks. 

After a moment, Sokka replied, an obvious smile in his voice. “Yeah. We should.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Sokka called Zuko the morning after Soolong had arrived in DC, angling his phone so Puck was the only one in the frame. Puck had a better morning face than Sokka, anyway, and he figured that Zuko deserved a good start to the day.

Zuko answered with a crooked smile already on his face, cooing as soon as he saw Puck, tail wagging and tongue lolling out of his mouth. “Hey! It’s my favorite boy!”

“Uh!” Sokka said, moving so Zuko could see him glaring over Puck’s head. “Excuse me?”

“I said what I said,” Zuko grinned. “Morning.”

“Morning to you, too,” Sokka hugged around Puck’s neck and grinned at him, false offense forgotten. “Not too often we can say that to each other, huh? It’s still weird being in the same _country_ as you, man, but now we’re in the same _time zone?_ Fucking wild. And guess what—”

Zuko felt his heart speed up and his cheek grow warm at the reminder of how close they were. Six days til Boston. Six days til Sokka. “What?”

“It’s your _birthday_ , that’s what! You’re fucking old now!”

“I’m four months older than you, Sokka, I’m not _old_ —”

“Huh, sounds like you’re old, grandpa.” 

“Fucking—respect your elders, then!”

Sokka laughed and, with a thrill, he thought he saw Zuko _blush_. “I refuse to respect you but I _did_ make a cake. You can’t eat it so it’s basically a present for _me_ , but it’s vanilla and vanilla and lovingly homemade with a box mix and it’s gonna be _delicious_.”

Zuko had told him his favorite flavors a year ago, and Sokka had written it on a post-it note on his desk. He had been collecting Sozzy Facts before they had even started texting; he had considered folding them into the little stars Yue had taught him to make, but one, it was way too cringey romantic, and two, he wanted to keep them as easy references. Not that he ever forgot a Sozzy Fact in his life. “Asshole,” Zuko said, and Sokka could hear the ‘thank you’ behind it.

“What are you doing today? The concert’s at six, right?”

Zuko nodded and ran a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. “Yeah. Uh, we’re gonna go to some museums if we can, but it’s hard to get incognito enough, you know?”

Sokka gasped. “Am I gonna see you in a baseball hat? Please say yes, you’ll look so stupid.”

“Fuck off!” Zuko glared at him. “I will _not_ , and you’re supposed to be supportive.”

“Never in my life have I said I’d be supportive of dumb looks, boyo. Please wear a hat, I want to see. Lee has a hundred on him at all times, I know you can find one.”

“You just want to get blackmail material,” Zuko accused, wrinkling his nose. Sokka took a screenshot.

“I have plenty of blackmail material already, I just wanna make fun of you.”

“It’s my _birthday_ , be nice!” he whined. “People are gonna sing Happy Birthday at me tonight, I need to have some source of comfort. As a gift.”

“No,” Sokka smiled. “My presence is a present, et cetera.”

“You’re not present, though.”

“Nah, but I will be soon, right?”

Six days. “Yeah, ha. I guess so. I guess—I’ll be the one present, right? Does it count if you’re already there?”

“Who knows, but—we’re both gonna be there. Here. Whatever.” Sokka laughed and tried to not let the undercurrent of his anxiety show. It was a _big deal_ , no matter how much he tried to act like it wasn’t. “I’m a belated birthday gift.”

“Ha,” Zuko said, and Sokka knew he wasn’t imagining a blush that time. “Yeah. It’s—you’re a good one.”

Sokka knew he wasn’t imagining his own blush either, and scratched at the prickle in his cheeks. “Yeah, well. Uh—”

“Up!” Lu Ten yelled, rapping on Zuko’s door. He was a sucker for museums. With a sigh, Zuko got up to let him in, and yelped as Lu Ten immediately shoved a baseball hat on his head.

“ _Yes_!” Sokka shrieked, taking obvious screenshots, one after another. “God, you’re a hero, Lu Ten, this is all I’ve ever wanted. You look so _stupid_ , Zuko!”

Lu Ten peered at the screen and gave a wave. “Hi, Sokka. I’m stealing him.”

“Yeah, yeah. Make him take some selfies, okay? God, I’m going to put them in a scrapbook, this is too good—”

“ _Bye, Sokka_ —” Zuko intoned loudly and unceremoniously hung up on him.

Sokka laughed into Puck’s neck and gave him some satisfying scritches. “God, he’s the worst,” Sokka said, feeling light and _happy_. “Come on, let Papa get dressed and then—”

Puck knew what ‘then’ was and perked up immediately, staring at him with alert brown eyes and upright ears. Sokka laughed and kissed his head before getting up, Puck bounding along behind him.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Zuko stared out at Boston Harbor from his hotel room, feeling like he was vibrating out of his skin. It was still _hours_ til he would meet Sokka; with the concert at seven, the warm-up at six, Sokka working until five, and Soolong’s signing until four, they were unable to meet until after the performance, which was simultaneously a relief and also the most stressful thing that Zuko had ever experienced. On one hand, he had time to prepare, to steel himself for what he considered one of the most important events of his life. On the other, he had to wait for ten entire hours, building up anticipation and nerves and nausea that he couldn’t seem to shake.

He took a few deep breaths and shook his hands at his side to try and stave off the tightness in his chest, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to splash his face with cold water, either, or to drink too-bitter tea made with the cheap hotel-provided tea bags, or to bury himself in the blanket he always brings from home in some attempt to nap or suffocate or both. With a strained groan, he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and did the only other thing he could think of that might take the anxious edge off; he snuck out of the hotel to take a quick-paced directionless walk, hoping to burn off the nervous energy.

It had been a good decision, he thought. It gave him enough scenery and purpose to focus on that he was able to keep his thoughts from falling down too many panicked rabbit holes. It wasn’t until he heard a whispered “ _Is that Zuko?_ ” from a couple of girls passing by that he realized he hadn’t thought to grab anything to hide his face. He also realized he hadn’t thought to grab his wallet. Or his hotel key. Or his phone.

_Fuck_.

There was always a chance that he thought he was hearing more attention than there was, but it did seem like his name kept popping up, eyes kept looking at him, a few people started following him, just to _see_. As much as he (sometimes) loved interacting with fans, it was not something he felt he could deal with. He was already tense, his anxiety was already high, and being cornered in any context would only make it worse.

He hurried down a few twist-and-turning downtown streets as the gaggle of approaching began to be too much to handle. Turning a corner, he cast a final glance over his shoulder and ducked into a nondescript coffee shop. He looked out the window, hoping that no one had seen him, or, at least, that no one decided to follow. After a moment of no sign of pursuit, he sighed in relief and turned to apologize to the barista behind the counter.

Zuko froze in place.

“Hi,” said Sokka.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ as always tomkin belongs to [hella1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella1975/pseuds/hella1975), toklo belongs to [muffinlance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance), shame from incorrect punctuation belongs to [nettlewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nettlewine/pseuds/nettlewine)  
> ✩ :-)


	18. eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ its tuesday my dudes!  
> ✩ hey!!!!! i said id try for an early chapter and i succeeded!!!!!! unexpected  
> ✩ also: holy shit we hit 7k hits! also holy shit we hit 1k comments which as yall know cracks me tf up. love it love it

Sokka had all but begged Haru to let him take his shift the day of the Soolong concert (or, to be more accurate, the day of _Zuko_ ). Haru had given him some suspicious looks and had made him promise that this wasn’t a preemptive way to trick him into picking up Sokka’s Monday morning shift, but eventually relented and took the day off. Sokka was endlessly grateful to find something to do—to find something he was _forced_ to do, with real responsibilities and busy distractions. He had blinked awake an hour before his alarm, his mind filled with frantic predictions of how it would go, trying to prepare himself to not do anything embarrassing, trying to brace himself for the inevitable flustered haze he would go into the moment he stepped backstage, the moment he saw him.

It had been a smart decision, all in all. There were plenty of out-of-towners who were in the city for the concert, decked out in Soolong merch and talking about seeing their biases up close and personal (‘up close’ was subjective, of course, but even people in the nosebleed seats could revel in seeing the idols in person). Even with the stark reminders of what was to come, the mass of visitors meant a mass of customers, and Sokka and Suki were in constant motion taking and fulfilling orders. 

They eventually had to stop allowing them to say their names were those of group members. “Sorry, we already have five Lees waiting, can I get a different name?” Suki asked, writing the muttered ‘Jackson’ with a grin.

“Toklo number two!” Sokka called out, louder than the ceaseless noise of the crowd. “God,” he said to Suki as they hurried to make Toklo-number-three and Lu-Ten-number-six’s lattes. “When does the signing start? Surely they’ll head out before then, right?”

“We can only hope,” she sighed.

Sokka’s prediction had, thankfully, been correct, and the shop began to empty in waves, eventually leaving only a few full tables behind. Sokka and Suki slumped against the counter and exchanged relieved looks. “You want to take your lunch first?”

“ _Hell_ yes,” Suki sighed. “I’ll be in the back, don’t bother me unless there’s another pop,” she paused. “Wait, no, don’t bother me _especially_ if there’s another pop.”

Sokka waved her off as he made himself a couple shots of espresso, knowing he would need all the caffeine his system could take to survive the day. Thankfully, there was no other pop in sight, and Sokka took care of the slow trickle of customers easily. Their shop was just far enough from the signing for people (everyone) hoping to get a good spot in line stuck to the closer chains.

The bell above the door rang. Sokka looked up to greet the newcomer and felt a cold rush run through his entire body, mind going blank and eyes disbelieving.

Zuko was standing by the door. Zuko looked harried as he glanced out the window. Zuko sighed and Zuko’s shoulders relaxed. Zuko turned and Zuko froze.

“Hi,” Sokka said. 

Zuko stood there. Zuko gaped at him. Zuko looked shocked to see him. Zuko, Sokka realized, had no clue that Sokka worked there. Zuko had wandered in by chance. Zuko, the back of his mind whispered, was there by fate.

“I—” Zuko said, taking a shaky breath in. “Sokka?”

“Guilty,” he said, and immediately winced at how fucking _stupid_ that was. He had rehearsed not being an embarrassing idiot, but he had _not_ rehearsed seeing Zuko. It was one, he had not anticipated seeing him til _nine_ when he would go backstage. He had not rehearsed seeing Zuko, at work, eight hours early, while wearing a stupid shirt that he had picked because he knew he would feel leveled the fuck up when he changed into something hotter. He _was_ wearing some ass-hugging jeans, but a shirt with ‘Grip It and Rip It’ and a coke can on the front was _not_ what he wanted Zuko’s first real look at him to be.

“I—uh. I—walked? And got spotted. So—” 

Zuko got like this sometimes, when he was nervous, words cut off and stilted. Sokka _knew_ that, Sokka was familiar with that, and it sent a rush of warmth to battle the cold chill that had swept through him before.

“Oh, fuck, you did?” He leapt into action, lifting the hinged section of the counter that would let him come behind. “Here, come on, it’ll be easier to hide in the back.”

Zuko looked like he was moving through a dream—Sokka felt the same way, so he could be projecting, but it _did_ make him feel a little better. He slipped past him, _almost_ close enough to touch, close enough that Sokka could feel the brief heat from his body. Zuko hadn’t been kidding when he said he ran hot.

“This way.” Sokka led him through the attached kitchen and to the office slash storage slash staff room.

Suki glanced up from her phone and did a quick double take, giving Zuko an incredulous stare. With a sigh, she stood and put her sandwich back in her lunch bag, pointing at them both in stern succession. “You owe me,” she said before heading up to the front.

“Thank you!” Sokka called after her. When he turned back, Zuko was standing frozen once more, looking at him with those huge, beautiful, striking golden eyes that Sokka had been enamored with over the screen, and _in person_ —

“You’re really here?”

Zuko nodded slowly, not looking away from him. “I—don’t know. I think so?”

“Ha, I, uh—you’re real, huh?”

Zuko furrowed his eyebrows, and, up close, he could see how his good eye narrowed to match the other side. “I thought I’d convinced you I was real, dumbass.”

Sokka couldn’t help his burst of laughter, the joy that sparked in his chest. “You _have_ to be real if you’re calling me dumbass, I don’t think my imagination would be so rude—”

Zuko broke out into a grin, as well, and Sokka could have swooned. They could do nothing but stare at each other and burst out laughing, still in disbelief and in shock. They were both real, they were both there, they were both within one foot of each other and crossing that distance felt completely irresistible. Zuko was the one to break first, and if Sokka thought he was in love before, it was _nothing_ compared to how he felt about Zuko’s sweet, vulnerable face right then. “Can I hug you?”

Sokka was immediately on him, tucking him close and probably hugging him way too tightly, but there was no way he could do anything else but hold on to this new, beautiful reality. Zuko hugged him back with the same amount of force and it _was_ painful and so, so worth it. “ _Hi,"_ Sokka whispered into his ear.

Zuko’s voice shook a little. “Hi.”

Zuko smelled like comfort and smoke and sunshine and Sokka never wanted to let go.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Sokka smelled like sea salt and moss and home and Zuko never wanted to let go.

He knew he was hugging him too tightly, but there was nothing he could do to stop himself. He wanted to hold him close, to keep him in his arms, to bask in this golden moment forever. “Hi,” he said again, and couldn’t regret it, no matter how stupid it was.

“Hi.” Sokka grinned and Zuko felt his nose against his hair, his hands against his back, his chest against his chest. “I didn’t—expect this. To see you.”

Zuko shook his head and regretfully pulled back, though he kept his arms around him. Being able to see Sokka’s face made it worth it. “I didn’t either. I was just—really nervous and I couldn’t think about anything else and I just, uh, I thought walking would be a good idea and it was but then I remembered people know what I look like and also I forgot, uh, everything, and then—I saw you and now—”

“And now,” Sokka agreed. “Wait—aren’t you supposed to be at the signing in, like, twenty minutes?”

Zuko jumped, eyes going wide as he frantically looked around til he saw the clock. “Fuck. _Fuck,_ I didn’t know I’d been gone that long—”

He saw Sokka come to a quick realization as he asked slowly, “Did you tell anybody you were leaving?” Zuko’s silence was the only answer he needed. “We should call somebody, okay, I’ll—uh, call an Uber maybe? Or is that—”

“Alright, boys,” Suki interrupted. “Sokka, up front. Zuko, I’ll give you a lift.”

Zuko blinked at her. He didn’t often run into someone who treated him as an at least semi-normal person. “Oh. Thank you.” Sokka looked at him with what Zuko could only describe as puppy-dog eyes and his heart _melted_. “Sokka—”

Suki cleared her throat and jingled her keys. “ _Sokka_ , man the counter. You’ll see each other in a few hours, chill, don’t act like you’re going to war.”

Both of them blushed, and Sokka squeezed Zuko’s arm. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you, okay? Really soon.”

Zuko nodded and took a shaky breath and Suki rolled her eyes, grabbing his other elbow. “I’ll be back whenever I want to be. Come on.”

Zuko looked back as he followed her out the back door, willingly guided to her well-loved car. “Thanks for this, Suki.”

She turned the car on and backed out of the lot. “No prob. I want to talk to you anyway. Harbor Hotel, right?”

Zuko nodded and swallowed. Out of all the things she could have said, ‘I want to talk to you’ was at _least_ in the top five phrases that would make him the most nervous. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She waited til they were officially on their way before continuing, saying in blunt, certain terms: “Sokka likes you.”

Zuko went red. “What? I don’t know what you—”

“Yes, you do,” Suki interrupted with a snort. “Listen to me. Sokka likes you. And I’m his best friend. If you hurt him, I will actually destroy you.” She spoke steadily, like she wasn’t threatening Zuko’s life. Zuko had no doubt that she could destroy him. “He’s kind and strong but he’s also _sensitive_ , which you should know by now.”

“I do,” Zuko said quietly.

“Good.” She gave him a sidelong glance as they stopped at a red light. “I want you to tell me straight up. Do you like him too?”

Zuko knew the answer beyond a shred of doubt. He had known the answer for almost two years now: he had known he liked him, he had known he _loved_ him, and had _not_ known that Sokka felt the same, no matter how much he hoped. He nodded before he remembered she wasn’t looking at him. “Yes.”

Suki nodded once in acknowledgement. “I’m his best friend, but I’m also his ex-girlfriend, which you should also know by now.”

“I know,” Zuko confirmed quietly.

“Good. I want you to know that I didn’t break up with him because he was a bad boyfriend. He was actually—super, super great. He was really sweet and attentive and, like, really good. _Really good_ , you know what I mean?”

“Yes.” Zuko’s voice squeaked, and she grinned.

“Right. I’m just a lesbian. He’s a good guy and a good boyfriend and a good everything else. So, uh, ten out of ten, four and a half stars, do recommend.”

“Why four and a half?” Zuko asked after a moment.

“I can’t be too nice. Like I said, he’s my best friend and he’s said _you’re_ his best friend too, which, uh, brave up so you can step off my territory. So we both know he’s a fucking idiot, we have to dock points somewhere.”

He was smiling and red as she pulled up to the hotel, quietly directing her towards the back so he could sneak in. “Thank you. For—all of this.”

Suki clicked her tongue and shot him with finger guns. “Check you later, hot stuff. I’m gonna take full advantage of your backstage catering.”

Zuko grinned and she could, quite honestly, see the appeal. “Okay. Bye, Suki.”

Sokka must have texted them, because every other member of Soolong rushed out the door as soon as he got out. She peace signed at them and drove off, deciding to take Yue to lunch. She hadn’t been kidding when she told Sokka she would come back when she wanted to. He could handle the stress.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

“Where the fuck have you _been_ ?” Lu Ten couldn’t help but yell, grabbing Zuko by his shoulders. Even though Zuko flinched, he _had_ to understand how worried out of his mind Lu Ten had been for the past hour.

Zuko had the decency to look ashamed and didn’t meet his eyes. “Sorry. I took a walk.”

“Without telling us? Without telling _me_?” Lu Ten nudged his chin to make him look at him.

“I know, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight. I was just—nervous.”

“I don’t _care_ , Zuko, I was so fucking worried.” Zuko flinched and looked away again, and Lu Ten saw tears start to well in the corner of his right eye. He took a deep breath and softened his tone, loosening his grip and pulling him into a hug instead. “I was worried. When I couldn’t find you—I’m glad you’re okay, but you can’t just wander off like that again. Don’t make me feel like a freaked-out parent.”

“I’m sorry, Lu.” 

He sighed and kissed Zuko’s temple before letting him go, giving Tomkin a thumbs up where he was waiting to come in. “Who was that? In the car.”

“Oh,” Zuko blinked and seemed to come into his mind a little bit more. “Suki. Sokka’s friend.”

Tomkin paused midstep. “What?”

Zuko furrowed his brows and looked at him. “What? I’ve talked about her before, right?”

“Yes?” Lu Ten looked at him oddly. “Why were you with her?”

Zuko looked between them. “She, uh, gave me a ride because some fans spotted me. And she wanted to threaten me.”

Tomkin glanced at Lu Ten before nudging Zuko’s elbow with his own. “Did she just _find_ you?”

“Oh!” Zuko’s eyes lit up with the realization that he had left out _very vital information_. “Oh, yeah, I accidentally met Sokka.”

“ _WHAT?_ ”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Zuko took a selfie at the signing, posing with the packed convention room of fans in the background and Tomkin and Toklo in the bottom corners. He sent it to Sokka before even thinking of posting it anywhere.

Sokka: oh BUSY boy have fun w that

He sent a picture of a cup of tea, a smiley face typed above it.

Sokka: pregaming  
Sokka: jk this is for a customer tea sucks   
Sokka: do i look like i need to be calm????   
Sokka: ive had 4 shots of espresso since u left btw im gonna be insane when we meet   
Sokka: but its the second time so it doesnt count right????

zuko: right  
zuko: :)   
zuko: 🤠😡

Sokka: 🤠😡

Zuko put his phone away at Toklo’s nudge, grinning as the first people in line began to approach. He couldn’t help but notice his sense of peace, the calm of his heart, the stillness of his mind. The nervous energy he had been feeling since arriving in Boston had all but disappeared, and the only thing he felt now was eager anticipation for the fans, the show, and _Sokka_. He had definitely been right to take a walk, even though the end result was so far from what he had ever expected that he was still having a hard time accepting that it was _real_.

It seemed that they were all in high spirits that day, and broke enough rules during the signing that Jin eventually gave up trying to stop them. There was no telling how many unauthorized selfies they had taken with fans, or how many illicit items they had signed, or how many accidental curse words had come out of their mouths. They were reveling in the feeling of being loved and the thrill of an upcoming concert that they were determined to make _perfect_.

A little boy moved from Toklo to Zuko and gave him a shy smile. “Hi—”

Zuko’s eyes widened and he smiled brightly. “Matthew, right?”

“You remember me?” Matthew blushed brightly and beamed at him.

“Of course I do! Your mom Tweeted your solo at me last year. It was really great, you did such a good job, just like I said you would.”

Matthew’s eyes shone with delighted tears. “Thank you. Thanks, I—um, I’m in junior high now and I got accepted to a performing arts school, and it’s really, really cool, and I started last month and I like it a lot and I’m doing really good except for math—”

Zuko laughed. “That’s _incredible_ , Matthew, I’m so proud of you.”

Matthew beamed even brighter. “Thank you! Thank you, I really love it, and I really love dancing and I like singing now, too, just like you.”

“That is just like me,” Zuko said, taking the photo he wanted signed, autographing the front and flipping to the back, writing a personal, heartfelt letter as they talked. “I wasn’t great at math either, but make sure you try hard to make good grades, okay? Not just in performance classes.”

Matthew nodded quickly. “I will. Mom helps me a lot and doesn’t yell at me even when I can tell she wants to.”

Zuko laughed. “She sounds like a really nice mom. I’m glad you have her. Listen, when you’re older, and you do really, really well and graduate from high school, I’ll invite you to audition with White Lotus.”

Matthew froze, staring at him as his mouth went lax. “Really?” he asked once he regained his voice.

Zuko held out his hand, pinky extended. “I promise.”

Matthew hooked pinkies with him and couldn’t help but shed tears, and leaned quickly over the table to hug him. Zuko laughed and stood so he could reach him better, hugging him tightly before sending him off. To his side, Tomkin was grinning.

“That was really sweet, Z,” he said quietly after signing for Matthew, leaning on his shoulder. Fans in the crowd yelled at their touch, and yelled more as Zuko bumped heads with him lightly.

“I meant it. We need more people like him in the industry. Especially with Uncle Iroh managing.”

“No kidding,” Tomkin said, and stretched dramatically, looking out at the still-filled room. “Okay! Only eight thousand more to go, right?”

Zuko laughed, and smiled at the fan who was next in line as she approached. “Just about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ as always tomkin belongs to [hella1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella1975/pseuds/hella1975), toklo belongs to [muffinlance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance), appropriate comma usage belongs to [nettlewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nettlewine/pseuds/nettlewine)  
> ✩ hope yall liiiiiiked


	19. nineteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ happy wednesday!!!!!!!!  
> ✩ ok………. ok so its The Concert, i made 1. [a spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/358tFkfAk3wyVvodYxu6Gy?si=-bAxVIFXRLq8xalvKRd0SQ) and 2. [a youtube playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLsCxCSF2HkstWVb2Tp-BEQgimKsIhoTTm) w specific live performances and then MVs / choreo / lyric vids when i didnt have anything specific other than the song in mind. not required listening obviously but i think the first song sets a good tone but also all of it is good all of them are bangers top hits chef kiss gold  
> ✩ i link The Most Important Song in text [but also here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Su--AKZRZIg&list=PLsCxCSF2HkstWVb2Tp-BEQgimKsIhoTTm&index=15&ab_channel=Brilliant) if u dont want to wait for it. this chapter was built around This Performance. i have done nothing else all week but think about zuko and This Performance. its all i care about. it has taken over my life and i am grateful and now it is in writing

Tomkin pulled Zuko aside as soon as they got to TD Garden. “We’re switching routines.”

Zuko blinked at him. “We are? Uh— _what_ routines?”

“Solos!” Tomkin snapped his fingers, looking at him with eager eyes. “Keep up, I’m doing you a favor. I know yours by heart, and I _know_ you know mine. It’ll be great. So good.”

“Why would we—”

“Because you’re a super sexy dancer and it’s absolutely in your best favor to be super sexy tonight. Okay? I mean, really, I’m just gonna tell you that it doesn’t _matter_ if it’s okay because I _will_ push you on stage. It’s gonna happen. It’s gotta happen.”

Zuko looked wary. “I don’t know, Tomkin. Fans are expecting—”

“An excellent show filled with surprises,” Tomkin said, nodding along. “I totally agree.”

Zuko mulled it over for a moment before sighing deeply. “You think I’m a sexy dancer?”

Tomkin rolled his eyes and grabbed his shoulders. “The sexiest,” he said seriously. “And you know who else will think so?”

“Uh—” Zuko went red and wide-eyed immediately.

“Exactly. Make sure to stretch good!” Tomkin smiled, waving as he bounced off to get his makeup done before sound check. 

With another deep, resigned sigh, Zuko began to stretch. The concert was another few hours away, and Tomkin’s— _his_ —solo was midway through the concert, but it didn’t hurt to start early.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Sokka’s nervous energy had disappeared after his (extremely unexpected, thrilling surprise, astoundingly impossible) meeting with Zuko, but the closer they got to the Garden, it began to emerge once more in full force. “I’m gonna die,” he thought, muttering aloud without noticing. “I’m gonna die.”

Suki snorted, hooking arms with him as they walked. “If you didn’t die earlier, you’re sure as hell not gonna die now.”

Yue hummed in agreement and hooked arms with him on his other side. “Suki said he seemed as fun as you—”

“I said as much of a _weirdo_ , babe, don’t be generous.”

“ _So_ —” Yue continued, ignoring her. “There’s no need to be scared, right? You’re on the same level.”

“I’m on the same level as Zuko, though,” Sokka groaned. “Not _Zuko_.”

“You’re saying dumb shit, Snoozles, explain,” Toph said from behind him from where she was allowing Katara to lead her through the quickly growing crowd.

“I mean—it’s different, you know? Zuko is Zuko, but _Zuko_ is _Zuko_.” He sighed when it seemed that was insufficient. “I mean that Zuko-my-friend is on my level. He’s as weird as me, and I know he’s super nice and nervous and not intimidating, but Zuko-of-Soolong is totally _not._ He’s—fuck, he’s _everybody’s_ and not just _mine_ , and that makes it way, way different. I get why Zuko and I are friends, but why would _Zuko_ pick me, right?”

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Suki pinched his side hard enough to bruise. “You remember what I said?” Sokka’s reddening cheeks implied that he did. “It doesn’t matter why, it matters that he did pick you, and he does like you—”

“And he _likes_ likes you,” Yue said, leaning her head on his shoulder with a smile.

“For some reason,” said Katara.

Aang laughed and Sokka shot them a glare. “Fuck off. I’m charming and handsome and sexy, that’s why—”

“There you go then!” Yue grinned.

Sokka paused. “Fuck. I played myself.”

Toph laughed and reached forward to shove him. “Please say we’re almost there, I want to sit down and not move for three hours, I hate this.”

“Almost,” Katara promised, pulling up the tickets that had been emailed to them (well—emailed to Sokka then immediately forwarded to Katara who was, between the two of them, the most likely to _not_ lose her phone). Sokka swallowed and gripped his exes a little tighter as they got closer to the box office. Katara took the backstage lanyards with a peppy “Thank you!” and handed them around, (secretly) preening in the jealous glares from all sides.

Sokka kept expecting to see Zuko in the crowd, on every staircase, around every corner. He knew, logically, that he was prepping for the show and they wouldn’t see each other until it was over. That was a _fact_ ; Zuko would be absolutely insane to come out into the throngs of admirers, and Sokka would not be the one to facilitate his death by enthusiastic affection. That didn’t stop him from glancing around and growing more and more nervous as they made their way to their seats.

They ended up not _quite_ front row, but they were intimidatingly close to the stage. He squawked in a very manly manner as he was manhandled to the middle of their seats, with Katara and Aang to one side and Suki, Yue and Toph to the other.

“These vibrations are gonna _fuck_ ,” he heard Toph say to Yue, grinning widely. Maybe she was saying it to all of them, but it was like every surrounding sound had been muffled, his ears focusing solely on the pre-show soundtrack playing over the speakers and searching for any sign of Zuko.

It couldn’t have been more than forty-five minutes when the lights began to dim, but it felt like forty-five _years_. Suki grabbed his hand and squeezed, whispering “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God” over and over. Once upon a time, many years ago, they had decided on a sweet and slow Soolong song to be the first dance at their wedding. Later on, he and Yue had decided on _another_ sweet and slow Soolong song. He wasn’t sure what song they had picked together, but if they _had_ discussed it, he was sure it would be yet another one. Mutual obsession had been (and was) an incredible part of all of their relationships.

The fan chants began in unison and echoed throughout the arena after the opening reel finished playing and the arena was plunged into darkness. _“LU TEN, TOKLO, ZUKO, TOMKIN, LEE! SOOLONG! SOOLONG! SOOLONG!”_

Audience participation was, as a rule, the second most exciting part of concerts, save for seeing the performers themselves. Even with his companions yelling along, Sokka couldn’t bring himself to join. His mouth went dry, his mind went blank, his stomach swooped, his heart _leapt_ as the stage lit up. Soolong comes into view on the stage lifts, posing dramatically in the shadows before going into their first song.

Sokka’s worries dissipated as soon as he saw Zuko in the spotlight. It hit him all at once: Zuko and _Zuko_ weren’t separate people. He hadn’t seen this side of him in person (well—before _today_ he hadn’t seen _any_ sides of him in person), and had only seen him perform in videos, but the transformation from Zuko to _Zuko_ was as organic as it was impressive.

Sokka experienced the first half of the concert in a daze, watching thrilling performance after thrilling performance, chanting lines to songs along with the other tens of thousands of people who would kill to be in his place, listening to Yue yell about Lu Ten and Suki make the executive decision to adopt Tomkin as her bias to replace Zuko, who apparently had terrible taste. Toph had been right and the bass vibrations really did fuck, and he felt enthralled by the entire aura and the realization that he was living in a _dream_.

The music for [Tomkin’s second solo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Su--AKZRZIg&list=PLsCxCSF2HkstWVb2Tp-BEQgimKsIhoTTm&index=15&ab_channel=Brilliant) began to play, one he performed at almost every concert since they signed with White Lotus, and Sokka was thrust back into his body all at once.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered, unheard by anyone over the deafening screams. Zuko stood in Tomkin’s place, dressed in black, and ruined Sokka for any other person in one split second.

He _knew_ Zuko was a great dancer, as was everyone in Soolong, but this was something else entirely. Zuko moved with unmatched confidence and undeniable sex appeal as he moved down the stage. This was an unprecedented performance—Sokka would _know_ if this had happened before. Zuko had never done this, had never taken this solo, had never performed this live. He almost felt _dirty_ as he watched Zuko move, unable to focus on one part of him for any amount of time, moving from his hips to his waist to his face to his legs and _all of him_.

He looked up as Zuko moved closer to them, just in time for their eyes to meet. Zuko—his Zuko, Zuko of Soolong, Zuko Sozin—gave him a fucking _wink_.

“Oh my God,” Sokka whispered, staring at him with wide eyes as Zuko grinned widely, pleased and _sexy_ , before dancing across the stage again, framed by backup dancers.

He felt Yue, Suki and Katara all staring at him, but he could do nothing but keep his eyes on Zuko, filled with unspecified want. Zuko made his way to the stage lift as the song ended and unmistakably aimed his wave at Sokka.

Sitting back, Sokka took a deep breath before looking at Suki, who was giving him a smug smile. “Okay,” he admitted. “Okay. Okay, yeah. Yeah. That’s—yeah.”

Satisfied, she snapped to attention to shake Yue’s shoulder as Yue slapped Suki’s knees in excitement. Sokka laughed as Yue’s favorite song began, and kept laughing as Zuko and Tomkin played it up, catching Zuko’s eyes again at the end before Tomkin shoved him away to blow a kiss in their general direction.

“ _Okay_ ,” Suki said, “Babe—”

“Yeah, hall pass. Hall pass for sure.”

Sokka snorted and shook his head. “Please don’t, Zuko said he falls in love in like, three seconds, don’t do it to him.”

Yue sighed. “Hm. We’ll consider it.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Zuko breathed deep as he listened to the repetitive chant for an encore, loud even in the dressing room behind and below the stage. Grabbing his phone before he could change his mind, he shot off a text.

zuko: this is for you  
zuko: 🤠😡  
zuko: 🤠😍

It was a night of firsts. His first takeover of “Just Dance”. His first heart-eyes cowboy. His first live performance of “Out of the Ashes.” He steeled himself, rolling his shoulders and closing his eyes as the opening music came on and he stepped onto the stage, raising the mic and catching Sokka’s eye before looking away and giving the best fucking performance of his life.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Predictably, Sokka’s nerves stirred once more after the third and final encore song ended, Soolong heartfeltly thanking the audience for one of their favorite performances of the tour and of all time, and sending them off with dramatic waves, spins, goodbyes, and swoons as their fans chanted their names, even as they walked offstage.

Katara nudged him. “Want to head back?”

“Yeah,” Sokka said, nodding even though his fight or flight instinct was telling him to fly, but to fly in Zuko’s general direction. “Katara? If I die, don’t let Aang officiate my funeral.”

“Hey!” Aang yelled. “I’d be great at mourning you, come on.”

“You’re not going to die, you dramatic ass,” Katara said, rolling her eyes and giving him a shove. Sokka was endlessly grateful for her as she took charge, leading their group to the well-protected backstage entrance and showing them their passes. Before security could even let them through, however, both Tomkin and Lee burst through the door, giving them an enthusiastic wordless yell.

“Oh my,” whispered Yue quietly, holding Suki’s hand in disbelief.

Suki, who had quickly got over her ability to be starstruck after dealing with Zuko, nodded at them in greeting. “Hey.”

“Hey! You saved Zuko’s life!” Lee beamed at her.

Suki wasn’t about to turn down the glory. “Sure as hell did. He owes me a life debt and he already knows how to repay it.”

Tomkin laughed and gave Sokka an inspecting look, stepping closer and peering at him. Sokka gulped, intimidated. Tomkin seemed satisfied. “Hm. You guys want to come back? Zuko said to tell you we have really good catering.”

“ _Hell_ yes,” Suki said, pumping her fist and dragging Yue and Toph by their hands, following Lee.

Tomkin kept looking at Sokka until Katara cleared her throat. His expression instantly changed and he beamed at her. “Follow me! We’ve been super excited to meet you—”

Tomkin kept up an easy chatter as he took them through the hallways that led to the backstage area, holding the door open for them. Sokka’s heart sped up as he caught sight of Zuko, his back turned to the door, and it sped up more as Tomkin blocked the door, shoving Sokka towards a storage closet instead, where Lu Ten, Toklo, and Lee stood waiting, arms crossed and standing tall. Tomkin closed the closet door behind him and stood in front of it, blocking Sokka’s only exit.

“Sokka,” Lu Ten greeted coldly.

Sokka gulped. “Hi?”

“I’m sure you know why you’re here.”

“Uh—” Sokka’s mind flipped through options like a Rolodex. “I know too much?”

Toklo tilted his head to the side, considering. “That is part of it, I guess. But we’re mostly here to threaten you.”

“Threaten me. Like—?”

Lu Ten stepped forward and Sokka tried to step back, only to be stopped by Tomkin. “Zuko is ours to protect,” he said, voice even, meeting Sokka’s eyes steadily. “He deserves the best.”

“I know,” Sokka said quickly. “I agree.”

“Good. But I want you to know that if you give him anything less than the best—”

“I’ve killed before,” Lee interrupted. “I’m not afraid to do it again.”

Toklo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “ _No_ , he fucking hasn’t. But the point stands. All four of us will kill you, and we will send your head to your family, and no one will ever find the rest of you.”

“ _Jesus_ ,” Tomkin said from behind him, causing Sokka to jump. “That’s too graphic, dude. You know what we’re saying, though, right?”

Sokka nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I do, uh—shovel talk, right?”

“Shovel talk,” Tomkin confirmed. “Even if we don’t kill you, if you hurt Zuko, we’ll make sure you hurt, too.”

“I understand,” Sokka assured him, eyes wide and earnest. “Swear to God, I won’t hurt him. I’ll try my best to, you know— _be_ the best.” He paused and blinked, looking between them all. “Wait, you know we’re not—together. Right?”

Lu Ten shrugged. “Yeah, well, consider this a pre-emptive shovel talk. I’ll be more thorough later.”

Lu Ten stepped past Sokka, followed by Lee and Toklo. Tomkin stopped him with a hand on his elbow. “Listen, Sokka. You _know_ Zuko likes you, right? There’s literally no way to not know at this point. All that I ask is that you don’t break his fucking heart. He’s my best friend and I love him more than anyone in the world. Like, more than my dead parents, I’m not fucking around.”

“I can understand that,” Sokka said quietly. Zuko had that effect on people.

“I want you to make him happy. It’s _easy_ to do that, once you know how. And you’ve figured it out pretty good already. But I really, really would like you to make a move because he might get too nervous, and I’m really, really tired of him saying both of us are his best friends, and I want that to get fixed as soon as possible.”

Even though Tomkin was obviously serious, Sokka couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, I get it. I’ll—I might get too nervous, too, you know? But I—I want to. So, uh. Maybe.”

Tomkin squinted at him before nodding once. “Good enough. Come on, I’m, like, ninety percent sure Lee’s holding him down to keep him from coming to your rescue.”

Sokka laughed again. “Okay, yeah. Thanks.”

With a grin, Tomkin let him out of the closet and into the dressing room, where Zuko immediately met his eyes from across the room and stopped struggling in Lee’s hold. They didn’t look away from each other as Lee let go, going over to Suki and Toph by the catering table. Tomkin joined them after Toph yelled, “Is that Tomkin? Lee said you can’t beat me in an arm wrestling contest, come on!” They didn’t look away as Yue and Toklo started excitedly showing each other their semi-matching jewelry. They didn’t look away as Lu Ten and Katara got into a passionate discussion about Lu Ten’s previous law school experience and Katara’s ongoing education.

They didn’t look away from each other as they slowly approached, meeting in the middle, both feeling like they were walking through a dream.

“Hi,” said Sokka, quiet in the bustling room.

“Hi, said Zuko, meant only for him.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Seeing Sokka in an environment that was uniquely Zuko’s was something that was not as out of place as Zuko expected it to be. He was still coming down from the performance high—his skin was chilly, the heat from the stage lights mixing with the dew on his face, his ears ringing from the vocal audience and his in-ear monitors, his body still itching to move with residual adrenaline. The world slowed when he looked at Sokka, though, and that was a high that he would never be brought down from.

Around them, their separate groups of friends seemed to integrate perfectly. In the back of his mind—a very small part, as most of his mind was occupied by nothing but _Sokka Sokka Sokka_ —he vaguely thought that it was a terrible idea to put Suki and Tomkin in the same room. He could hear them exchanging embarrassing Sokka-and-Zuko stories, but he would live through any embarrassment to stay in his presence forever.

“Hi,” Zuko said again, after a moment of comfortable silence. He smiled a little, feeling bashful.

“Hi,” Sokka said back, and grinned slowly before crossing the remainder of distance between them and hugging him close. “Hi.”

“Hi,” laughed Zuko, hugging him back. He couldn’t help but to nuzzle against Sokka’s shoulder, taking advantage of the few inches Sokka had on him. He knew he didn’t imagine the way Sokka’s breath caught in his throat, or the way his hold tightened for just a moment, or the way Sokka’s nose brushed against his hair, right at his temple. “This is crazy.”

“No shit,” Sokka said quietly, not letting him go. Zuko could hear the smile in his voice, though, and the need to see it made him pull away. He’s not sure what possessed him to touch the sharp edge of Sokka’s jaw, but he earned the brightest grin he had ever seen, and felt his heart melt. “Hi.”

“We should really find something else to say,” Zuko smiled, still touching him. He wanted to touch him for the rest of his life. If that meant he had to live there, standing in the middle of TD Garden, surrounded by witnesses in a makeshift dressing room, it would be worth it.

“Suggestions?” Sokka asked, looking at him with the bluest eyes Zuko had ever seen.

“Uh—” he laughed. “Fuck. I didn’t think it through that far.”

Sokka laughed, too, and touched his waist. It was Zuko’s turn for his breath to catch. “You wanna sit down? I think everyone’s making fun of us.”

“Are they?” Zuko asked. He could hear giggles around them and he was sure Sokka was right, but couldn’t bring himself to care. For someone who hated being the center of attention anytime he didn’t have a literal spotlight on him, Sokka made him feel centered and free. “Yeah, let’s sit.”

He let Sokka guide him to the sofa Suki and Yue were sharing, and shivered when Sokka sat next to him, pressed side to side, knee to knee. “This okay?” Sokka asked quietly, leaning closer.

“Yeah,” Zuko’s voice broke and he cleared his throat. “Yeah. It’s okay.”

Sokka’s lips twitched in a smile and Zuko didn’t want to stop looking at it, so he didn’t.

He had no idea how long they all stayed there; he was absorbed in Sokka’s presence, and the others seemed to be catching up like old friends, even though they had just met. It wasn’t til Jin coughed pointedly from the doorway that he was pulled out of his distracted concentration.

“I hate to break this up, but I can’t go to the hotel unless you all leave. Go get dinner or something so I can go to sleep.”

Lu Ten jumped up and gave her a slight apologetic bow. “Of course. Sorry, Jin.”

She waved him off. “Apologize by leaving. Text me when you get back so I know you’re not dead, but otherwise—I’m taking the night off.”

Lu Ten nodded, still wearing a guilty smile. “Dinner sounds good to me.”

“ _Please_ ,” Katara said, standing and holding her hand out for Aang.

Sokka glanced at Zuko before speaking. “I know a place. It’s my favorite diner, should be a twenty-minute walk away or something?”

Zuko’s heart jumped, realizing that this was the start of sharing things _beyond_ calls and pictures and whatever else. He could watch Sokka’s disgusting eating habits in person, and nothing in the world felt more alluring than that. He nodded a little as the others agreed, deciding that it had been long enough for fans to dissipate and go back to their own homes and hotels that they could head out.

That was how Soolong, the internationally-renowned, best-selling, top-charting, best-of-the-best group ended up in a mom and pop diner, sitting at a pushed-together table with their guests who were quickly becoming their friends, talking loudly and laughing louder, eating greasy burgers and drinking too-sweet milkshakes. That was how Zuko ended up pressed against Sokka’s side once again; that was how Sokka’s hand ended up on his knee under the table; that was how Zuko’s ankle ended up crossed with Sokka’s.

The lot of them left the waitress a significant tip to make up for the hour and a half of high volume and table-space and went out into the cool August night. Sokka took his hand and laced their fingers together. Zuko grinned dumbly at the ground and squeezed briefly in approval, feeling more than seeing Sokka grin back. They stood slightly apart from the others, alone in a crowd.

Zuko met Sokka’s eyes, but could not make any words, much less the ones he very much wanted to ask. He thought he read the same question in Sokka’s eyes, could see the way his lips would move to ask it, but neither of them did.

They could hear Katara and Lu Ten exchanging numbers, Toph and Toklo discuss their shared love of street food, Aang trying to convince Lee to switch from energy drinks to beet juice, and Yue, Suki and Tomkin’s shameless and whispered spying. They had eyes, however, only for each other.

It was Zuko who broke first. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked quietly.

Sokka smiled warmly, eyes sparkling. “Yeah. I’ll text you, okay?”

Zuko nodded and let Sokka’s hand go with great reluctance. “Night, Sokka.”

“Night, Zuko.”

They parted ways, Sokka to his apartment and Zuko to his hotel, and ended the best night of their lives (so far) with cheeks aching, hearts full, and eyes heavy.

Sokka: night zuko  
Sokka: again

zuko: night sokka  
zuko: thank you

Sokka: shut up  
Sokka: 🤠😍

zuko: 🤠😍

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ as always tomkin belongs to [hella1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella1975/pseuds/hella1975), toklo belongs to [muffinlance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance), hyphens belong to [nettlewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nettlewine/pseuds/nettlewine)  
> ✩ follow me on [tumblr @ kouje](https://kouje.tumblr.com/) if u want to  
> ✩ the links once again: [boston playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/358tFkfAk3wyVvodYxu6Gy?si=-bAxVIFXRLq8xalvKRd0SQ) // [youtube playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLsCxCSF2HkstWVb2Tp-BEQgimKsIhoTTm) // [zuko nee tomkins solo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Su--AKZRZIg&list=PLsCxCSF2HkstWVb2Tp-BEQgimKsIhoTTm&index=15&ab_channel=Brilliant) // [og soolong playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0aa84Wmh07VPnaymrhVPnD?si=wA2WHCLdSdq4tWmopMNj4w)  
> ✩ hope u guys liked this boy, i had fun writing it!!!!!!


	20. twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ its thursday! happy  
> ✩ hope u enjoooooy

The next day began as it always did, though perhaps a little earlier than usual. Sokka slept better than he ever had, exhausted from the concert and the insane experience of finally, finally meeting Zuko, but he woke with the sun, unable to sleep anymore. It took him a moment of laying in the morning light to remember everything that had happened the night before: seeing Zuko, touching Zuko, holding Zuko, feeling like he held a supernova in his arms.

Puck whined at the foot of his bed, not used to Sokka being awake so early, even when he had morning shifts. He smiled soft and sat up to give him some comforting pets, obliging when Puck rolled on his back, shamelessly aiming for belly rubs. Grabbing his phone, he took a picture and sent it off to Zuko, as he always did.

As he always did, Zuko responded—but as he rarely did, Zuko responded _immediately_.

zuko: sleepy boy  
zuko: beautiful baby sleepy boy   
zuko: early early snooze boy sleeps good   
zuko: :)   
zuko: 🤠😍

Sokka felt himself break out in a dopey grin, reveling in the flurry in his chest.

Sokka: it is f i v e am what are you doing up

zuko: it is f i v e am what are YOU doing up???

Sokka: oh shit  
Sokka: fair   
Sokka: my body decided it was done sleeping and my mind agreed

zuko: me too  
zuko: morning sokka

Sokka: morning dumbass  
Sokka: 🤠😍

Sokka saw the … appear and disappear and appear again, and he could _sense_ Zuko’s hesitation. It took almost a full minute for Zuko to finally press send.

zuko: Can i meet him?

Sokka snorted at the proper capitalization and punctuation and decided to only make him suffer a little bit.

Sokka: that’s a big step bud  
Sokka: meeting the kids?

The … appeared and disappeared again and Sokka called him, laughing, speaking before Zuko could say anything. “ _Yes_ , you have to meet him! Are you joking? He would be so disappointed if you didn’t.”

He could hear the relief in Zuko’s voice. “Well, I wouldn’t want that.”

“Damn right.” Even with his own insistence, Sokka felt _nervous_. “Do you—do you want to come over?”

“Can I?” Zuko said in a rush. Sokka could practically feel his blush over the phone, even though Sokka couldn’t see him. “I’d like to.”

“Yeah,” Sokka laughed, breathy and excited. “I’ll send you the address, okay?” Quickly, he added, “Make sure you tell somebody where you’re going. Leave a note or something.”

“I will, I will. You better not send me the wrong address, Sokka. I’m gonna be so mad if this has been, like, an insanely elaborate catfish.”

Sokka barked a laugh, and half-asleep Puck woofed quietly in response, he could hear Zuko snicker. “It’s not, I promise. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you.”

It was only after they hung up that Sokka remembered that he hadn’t tidied up in _forever_. He and Katara had both been too busy with school and his work and her internship to even think about cleaning, and now one of the world’s biggest idols and Sokka’s love of— _best friend other than Suki_ of his life was on his way. Frantically, he moved dirty dishes from the coffee table to the sink, threw away the tower of soda cans he had been steadily building by the couch, shoved the pile of shoes by the door to the side so it could open more than six inches for the first time in a month—just in time for a soft knock on the door.

Sokka didn’t hesitate before throwing it open, taking Zuko in like the most beautiful piece of art and the most delicious meal he had ever seen in his life. “Hi,” he said, feeling a little faint.

Zuko grinned, toothy and gorgeous. “I’m not saying it back or it’s all we’ll say for an hour.”

“ _Rude_ ,” Sokka laughed, stepping back to let him in.

Zuko’s eyes lit up as he spotted Puck, who was trotting in sleepily to find the source of noise. He would be an _awful_ guard dog judging by the way his tail began to wag at the sign of company. Or maybe he just had really, really good taste. _“Oh_ ,” he breathed, dropping to his knees. “Look at _you_. Hi, Puck.”

Puck licked him immediately and Sokka could have keened at the way Zuko didn’t flinch and instead hugged around his neck, burying his face in his long, soft fur. Puck’s tail thumped against the floor as he sat, soaking in Zuko’s full attention and welcoming the enthusiastic pets from the brand new, good-smelling person doting on him. Zuko pulled away from hugging him to look at Puck’s happy face, scritching his cheeks and cooing at his pretty eyes.

That was the moment Sokka knew. He had _suspected_ , of course. He had been pretty sure. He had figured and hoped and dreamed. But now he knew—he was in love.

Zuko ducked his head suddenly and sneezed before resuming, then had to stop to sneeze again, and again, and again. “Oh my God,” Sokka said, eyes going wide with recollection. “You’re allergic to _dogs_ , dumbass, oh my God.”

“It’s—” Zuko sneezed, looking up at him with red, watering eyes. “It’s fine, don’t worry.”

“It is _not_ fine, idiot. We have some allergy pills somewhere, you need an antihistamine before you die in my house,” he kept talking as he went off to dig in the bathroom medicine cabinet. “I will not be responsible for your death, dude, absolutely not. I would die too, and it would be _so_ much less pleasant than yours. Which wouldn’t be fun! Sneezing to death does not sound fun!”

“I’m not—” Zuko sneezed pathetically, finally letting go of Puck and standing up. “I’m not _deadly_ allergic, Sokka, only—” he sneezed, “a little bit.”

“Dumbass. Dumb boy, stupid man,” Sokka said, going to the kitchen to get him a glass of tap water. “Stupid, dumbass, dumb boy,” he said, handing the pills, glass and a tissue to him.

Zuko took them gratefully, wiping his eyes with his sleeve before blowing his runny nose. “Shut up. Worth it to love on Puck in person.”

Puck’s tail thumped against Zuko’s leg at the same rate and weight of Sokka’s heart. 

“You’re so stupid,” Sokka said, and kissed him.

Zuko made a soft noise against his lips, but after half a second, he moved with Sokka, kissing him softly. He held Sokka’s waist and, even as chaste as it was, Sokka felt his head spin. Dizzy and enthralled, he wanted to do nothing more than kiss Zuko until the end of time; he wanted to kiss him for the rest of his life, wanted to kiss him through an apocalypse, wanted to kiss him even in death, wanted to kiss him in whatever afterlife they ended up in.

Fate had other plans. Zuko broke away suddenly, sneezing loudly into his elbow. He looked at Sokka, lips already redder than they had been. They stared at each other for a moment before bursting out in hysterical laughter, unable to stop themselves. Even their laughter felt romantic.

“You had to make that the first one?” Zuko asked, grinning joyfully.

“First, huh?” Sokka grinned back, even more joyful. “Does that mean there’s gonna be a second?”

By the time Katara emerged from her room to level them with a tired glare, they were laughing against each other’s mouths between kisses, Zuko’s arms loose around Sokka’s shoulders and Sokka’s arms tight around Zuko’s waist. With a loud sigh, she retreated, closing the door louder than necessary just to remind them that _someone else lived there_ and _that person was sleeping_. It was useless, though, because their senses were absorbed in each other. There was no room for anything that wasn’t Zuko-and-Sokka, Sokka-and-Zuko.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Kissing Sokka was like drinking water: nourishing, natural, and necessary for life.

Kissing Sokka was like drinking _too much_ water and having to stop before drowning, balancing on the precipice of choking breathlessness and chock-full of life. “Sokka,” Zuko whispered, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.

“Uh-huh,” Sokka agreed, looking in his eyes, blue on gold, intense, bright, glazed over.

“I’ve wanted to do that for two years.”

Sokka smiled softly and had to kiss him again, brief and almost chaste. “Me too. Even before I knew who you were.” He furrowed his brow a little, face serious. “You know that, right?”

Zuko nodded and traced the curve of his jaw with his fingertips, and, on impulse, kissed his chin. “I know.”

“Even before we started calling.”

Zuko’s lips twitched upwards. “I know. Me too.”

“Before we started _texting_ ,” Sokka emphasized, thumb brushing his bare skin, just under his shirt. It was the most electric thing Zuko had ever felt. “I felt so stupid.”

“I was stupider,” Zuko laughed, kissing the corner of his mouth because he could.

“Yeah, well.” Sokka kissed him full on, because he could.

Zuko wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but Puck eventually broke through their absorption by pushing himself through the too-narrow gap between their bodies, whining loudly.

“Fuck,” Sokka said, clicking his tongue. “I’m sorry, boyo, Papa didn’t mean to forget.” He glanced at Zuko, hopefully. “Want to go on a w-a-l-k with us?” Puck perked up immediately, because he had learned what w-a-l-k meant three months ago but Sokka thought it was too iconic to stop spelling it.

“Of course I do,” Zuko grinned. “Can I—uh, I’m pretty recognizable right now.”

He knew he wasn’t imagining the way Sokka’s eyes lit up, and Zuko grinned more with the certainty that he was about to get exactly what he wanted. Sokka led him to his room, letting him snoop shamelessly. Zuko had already seen everything over video, anyways, but it felt like a whole new experience to see things up close, to be able to touch the flag on the wall and the corners of his desk and—

“I thought you were _kidding_ ,” Zuko laughed, picking up the framed screenshot of himself standing by his framed picture of Puck.

Sokka had been digging under his bed but he came to look. “Oh! Hell no, I was being so serious.”

“Obviously,” Zuko laughed again, and pulled him into another kiss. “Stupid.”

“Guess I am,” Sokka said, eyes going wide as he caught sight of something over Zuko's shoulder. “Aha! Found your disguise.”

Zuko took the offered hoodie and glanced at him. “This is your favorite.”

“Yeah.”

“You know I’m not gonna give it back.”

Sokka smiled, dopey and beautiful. “Yeah, I know.”

Zuko put it on immediately and shivered at how much it smelled like _Sokka_. He felt like it _should_ be gross, knowing it hadn’t been washed, but Zuko had never been more grateful for anything in his life. “Thanks,” he said quietly, trying to subtly nose against the collar just to smell it better. He supposed he had failed at subtlety, though, looking at the pleased smile on Sokka’s face.

Sokka reached and tugged the hood over Zuko’s head before using it to pull him closer, dragging him willingly into another kiss. “You look so good.”

“Shut up,” Zuko said, kissing him once more, then twice, then thrice before parting from him. “Come on, Puck’s waiting.”

Puck whined in agreement from the doorway, leash in his mouth. Sokka laughed, clipping Puck’s leash on and leading them out of the apartment and into the chilly morning air. “Hey, Zuko?”

“Mm?”

“Can I—”

Sokka didn’t need to say anymore, and Zuko’s hand found Sokka’s. They walked through the quiet streets, basking in the early morning sun, the weekend ensuring that there would be no bustling workday crowds to avoid. They allowed Puck to lead them, his nose guiding them to his favorite spots: the light pole three streets away, the townhouse steps of his greyhound friend’s home, the park with plenty of trees and dewy grass for him to roll in.

Sokka unclipped Puck’s leash once they reached a park bench, letting him run off energy that would replenish by that afternoon. Zuko sat beside him, their thighs pressing together as Sokka put an arm around his shoulders, tucking him close. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Zuko couldn’t help but whisper, resting his cheek against him.

“Good?” Sokka asked, though he didn’t need to.

“Good,” he confirmed, still quiet. 

Zuko wasn’t sure what he had expected out of all of this—out of his friendship with Sokka, meeting him, being near him, touching him, kissing him. All he knew was that it was _good_. He felt calm; Sokka was a still sea, deep blue and beautiful. Zuko felt like sunlight glinting and glittering on the surface. He wondered if Sokka felt as blessed to be in his presence as much as Zuko felt blessed to be in Sokka’s. He felt Sokka’s lips brush his hair and thought maybe he did.

They stayed like that, wrapped up in one another and watching Puck prance around, making his own fun with a discarded ball he had found, until Sokka’s stomach growled.

Zuko laughed and turned his head into his shoulder. “Me too. And I’m gonna need coffee soon.”

“Ugh, yeah,” Sokka said with a groan, regretfully loosening his hold on Zuko to stretch tall and whistle to Puck. Puck bounded to him, panting and damp. “There’s my smelly boy,” he cooed, clipping the leash on. “You’re gonna get a b-a-t-h later, yes, you are—” Puck hadn’t quite figured out b-a-t-h like he had w-a-l-k, but he gave Sokka a suspicious look, tail still wagging. “Want to stop by my work? Scones and coffee?”

“Sounds perfect,” Zuko said quietly, smiling at him and finding his hand once again, following him to the coffee shop and feeling like he would follow him to the ends of the earth.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

“This is a date, right?” Sokka had asked as they sat on the patio, trying to act like the question wasn’t the most important one he had ever asked. He felt his cheeks betray him as he took a bite of his scone, prickling pink even as he avoided Zuko’s eyes.

“I want it to be,” Zuko had said, soft and sweet in his gently-burning campfire voice.

“Then it is,” Sokka had confirmed, pressing their ankles together under the table and taking simultaneous sips of coffee in communion.

They went back to the apartment afterwards, sated and happy. They ended up sooner than expected in Sokka’s bed, lying together for hours, becoming familiar with each other’s mouths and voices and warmth and touch, though those touches remained more innocent than not. Puck snored from his place on the floor, already accustomed to Zuko’s presence, tired from his jaunt in the park, and having successfully avoided the bath for the time being.

“I should go,” Zuko whispered, but did not move. “I have an interview at five.”

Sokka hummed and held onto him a little tighter. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“Don’t ever want to get up.”

“Don’t ever want you to get up.”

“Have to,” said Zuko.

“Have to,” Sokka sighed, and sat up to look at Zuko’s face, taking him in. Sokka took a chance and touched Zuko’s chin, meeting his eyes as a question. Zuko nodded slightly and Sokka continued, tracing Zuko’s features with a light touch, memorizing the feel of him; the bridge of his nose, the curve of his lips, the lid of his eye, the edge of his scar. Zuko had closed his eyes but flinched, just slightly, opening them just enough to look at him.

Sokka froze, but Zuko grabbed his wrist before he could move away. “Keep going,” he whispered, voice rough. 

Sokka knew the significance, understood the trust, and carefully mapped the shallow ridges and rifts, the space where his eyebrow used to be, the rough outline of his ear. He looked into Zuko’s eyes, somehow both intense and calm, and threaded his fingers through his hair, dipping down and kissing him with all the gentle care he could muster.

Zuko kissed him back, matching his slow pace and working his hand under Sokka’s shirt to touch his warm skin, but they didn’t take it any farther than that.

Zuko’s phone pinged, followed by Sokka’s. They broke apart with matching sighs to check their texts.

Lu Ten: We need to leave for the signing in forty  
Lu Ten: Sorry :-(   
Lu Ten: Car On the way!

Lu Ten: Sokka can you return my cousin please? I don’t need a receipt

Zuko sat up, hair messy from resting on Sokka’s pillows. “I don’t want to go.”

“I’ll see you tonight,” Sokka said, though he didn’t want Zuko to go either. “Suki and Yue, too.”

Zuko nodded. “Tomkin’s already obsessed with them.”

“They’re great. Everyone should be,” Sokka shivered as Zuko traced his fingers.

Zuko glanced at him before continuing to trace. “I’m obsessed with you.”

Sokka laughed and quickly kissed Zuko before he could take it the wrong way. “I’m obsessed with you, too. I’m really—” he kissed him again, “really—” and again, “ _really_ ,” and once more, “obsessed with you.”

Zuko kissed him again with more fire than before, just in time for his phone to ring. He grumbled a little, resting his forehead against Sokka’s as he answered on speakerphone.

“Zuko—” Lu Ten started.

“I’m on my way, Lu,” Zuko sighed.

“Sokka?” Lu Ten asked.

“He’s on his way,” Sokka grinned, touching Zuko’s waist.

Zuko gasped quietly and Lu Ten groaned, having heard. “ _No_ , come on, can’t do it. You’re grounded if you don’t get here in fifteen.”

“ _Grounded?_ ” Zuko gaped at the phone. “I’m _twenty-five_!”

“Then you’ll be twenty-five and grounded! See you soon.”

Zuko fell back on the bed as Lu Ten hung up. “Ugh. He sucks.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Sokka grinned, standing up and tugging Zuko up with him.

“No, he doesn’t,” Zuko sighed. “I don’t want to go.”

“Too bad. I’ll see you in—five hours?” Sokka couldn’t keep his hands off of him; the hourglass curve of his waist was too much to resist. 

Zuko gave him one last smile and one last kiss before heading out to the car Lu Ten had called for him. It took all of Sokka’s willpower to not call after him, aching to say The Three Words sooner than he thought he should, and instead just waved him off, blowing him an exaggerated kiss, feeling as stupid as he looked and all the happier for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ as always tomkin belongs to [hella1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella1975/pseuds/hella1975), toklo belongs to [muffinlance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance), hyphens belong to [nettlewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nettlewine/pseuds/nettlewine)  
> ✩ i feel weird not having more authors notes  
> ✩ hope u liked this boy!


	21. twenty-one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ wow wow wow its saturday my dudes and yesterday is the f i r s t day i havent posted a chapter in uhhh 20 days is that not fucking crazy is that not fucking wild  
> ✩ that being said i didnt post it bc i really dont like what i wrote and im still not CONTENT but i wanted it out there so i could move tf on and think about rewriting it later. we'll see  
> ✩ hope u enjoy bc i didnt (im being dramatic dw dw its WHATEVER)

Zuko arrived at the hotel one minute before Lu Ten’s fifteen-minute deadline and couldn’t help but to grin at him, smug and pleased. Lu Ten huffed and tugged him towards the waiting car, the boys already loudly loading in. “You don’t have time to get dressed now, you know that, right?”

“I am dressed.”

Lu Ten looked him over and sighed. “You’re _so_ —”

“Yeah,” Zuko agreed, beaming, getting in and tucking his hands in the kangaroo pocket of Sokka’s hoodie. Toklo laughed and reached over to try to tame Zuko’s still-messy hair, and Zuko laughed in return, allowing him to try.

Zuko’s dopey grin remained on his face as they drove, as they greeted the waiting mass of fans outside the building, as they sat through hair and makeup, as they were introduced and brought on stage and shook hands with the enthusiastic interviewer. They ran through the usual questions: _Could you introduce yourselves? How has the tour been so far? Who’s your favorite groupmate to tour with? Do you have a favorite song to perform? Can you tell us about your upcoming work? Do you like concerts in America?_

“It might be like asking you to pick your favorite child, but I have to know—what have been your favorite performances this run?”

“L.A.!” Lee yelled immediately. “The Hollywood Bowl is so fun, I can’t _believe_ how cool it was. Outdoor concerts are the best, and it’s crazy how the audience can get _so loud_ even in the open air. Plus I got to wear sunglasses for, like, most of the show, and I look really hot in sunglasses. And the water fountain things from the stage? Cool as—”

“Very cool,” Lu Ten interrupted before Lee could curse, giving the interviewer an apologetic smile. “I’m always a fan of Texas.”

“He likes wearing cowboy hats,” Toklo clarified. Lu Ten shrugged with a grin, because it was true. “My favorite is always Seattle. Hometown boy, you know?”

“Same,” added Tomkin. “But to spice it up I’m gonna say Nashville, because we always have an incredible time at Bridgestone, _and_ I like to see Lu Ten wear cowboy hats.” He grinned as Lu Ten reached to high-five him from the other side of the sofa.

“Boston is my favorite city,” Zuko said. He was serious, and it was evident on his face. Also evident on his face was the satisfied look in his eyes, the relaxed set of his jaw, and the way that his lips were _red_ , overworked and slightly-bitten. Evident on his _body_ was the well-loved, too-big Bruins hoodie that no one had seen him wear before—and their fans kept up an _extensive_ catalogue of all of their looks.

The interviewer blinked, a little flustered by his tone. “We’re glad to hear that! Your last American performance is tonight, right? I hope Boston gives you a good send off.”

“I’m sure it will,” beamed Lu Ten, always the charming spokesperson. “Thank you for having us on the show.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Sokka, Suki, and Yue arrived at TD Garden filled with the giddy rush of excitement they had the night before—this time without Sokka simultaneously feeling like he could throw up at any given moment. They left later than they had been without Katara to insist they leave hours early, and waited in line amidst the loud masses to get into the building. There were no backstage passes to pick up this time, but Zuko had promised to snag them afterwards.

They weren’t as close to the stage as they had been last night, but they were still close enough that it felt like they could _touch_ it if their arms were a little bit longer. They were right in the center of the stage-front section, all buzzing with anticipation of seeing the performance up close and personal, now accustomed (ish) to seeing Zuko and the rest of Soolong, and able to revel in both their intense stardom _and_ their new friendships.

Yue, for all her gentle words and soft movements, loved to _hit_ when she got excited, and Sokka and Suki’s thighs suffered as the lights started to dim and the opening reel began to play. Just as they had the night before, the fan chants began in unison as soon as it ended, echoing throughout the arena loud enough to feel it in the dark. _“LU TEN, TOKLO, ZUKO, TOMKIN, LEE! SOOLONG! SOOLONG! SOOLONG!”_

The group appeared, brought up by the stage lifts, and leapt into their well-rehearsed, well-perfected, well-loved performance. It was the same set list as the night before, though it seemed that Tomkin and Zuko had taken back their original solos. Even with a standard set list, as with all Soolong concerts, it was as unique as it was consistent. Their interactions on stage were different; Lu Ten told worse dad jokes, Lee did more inappropriate hip-thrusts, and Sokka was pleased to see that Toklo and Tomkin seemed to focus on teasing Zuko more than anyone else. 

He could tell the moment Zuko spotted him in the audience, gold eyes lighting up as he beamed, the corner of his eye crinkling in the most endearing way. Sokka shot him a wink and laughed as Zuko blushed, turning away to try to hide it; a sweet, enticing payback for Zuko’s own the night before. After that morning, Sokka _knew_ he wasn’t imagining the way Zuko sought him out, singing at him, dancing for him, _showing off_ like the idiot he was.

By the time they had finished the encore (though, apparently, Zuko hadn’t been kidding when he said that last night’s “Out of the Ashes” performance was for Sokka, as they had switched it to one of their more popular group numbers), Sokka’s cheeks ached from smiling, heart racing from exhilaration, hand hurting from the way Yue had gripped it during every dramatic or emotional moment. Out of the corner of his eye, Sokka saw Suki shake her own hand out after the lights began to rise again, apparently having received the same treatment.

zuko: come to the stage door  
zuko: i’ll beat up the guards for you

Sokka: youre a real one  
Sokka: 🤠😍

zuko: 🤠😍

They made their way backstage once again, and the lingering fans behind them _shrieked_ when Zuko emerged from the door. He laughed and waved, signing a few autographs after letting Sokka, Suki, and Yue in and holding Sokka’s hand as soon as the door shut.

“Hi,” he said, looking into his eyes.

“Shut up,” Sokka said with a grin, and, unable to resist, kissed him.

“Oh, wow,” Yue said appreciatively from behind them. 

“Guess that’s happening.” Suki sighed and grabbed her girlfriend's hand, leading her down the hall. “Let’s scavenge the catering table.”

Zuko and Sokka broke apart a moment later and Sokka let out a breathy laugh. “Wow.”

“Careful. You’ll boost my ego.” Zuko’s sparkling eyes flicked over his face, just to look at it. His graceful fingers felt Sokka’s, and his smile was infectious.

“Good,” said Sokka, kissing him again. They jumped apart when a stagehand opened the door, and they were standing close enough to be bumped by it.

“Uh—” she said, wide-eyed. “Sorry?”

“Yeah, yup—” Sokka said, cheeks red. “Our bad, carry on—”

Zuko felt like he should worry that the stagehand would leak the story, but looking at Sokka’s bright eyes and toothy grin, he couldn’t bring himself to worry, precedent or no. He kissed Sokka again, brief and happily. “I’m still wearing stage clothes.”

Sokka laughed. “Yeah, well, you look super hot.”

“Yeah, well, I wanna change,” Zuko grinned, shoving his shoulder a little. “Come on. Suki and Tomkin are gonna spread lies about us if we don’t get in there.”

Sokka put his arm around Zuko’s shoulders, tucking him close to his side as they walked. He paused right before opening the dressing room door, giving Zuko a side-long glance. “I have an idea.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

“Are you _kidding me_?” Jin asked, throwing open the closet door a little while, causing Sokka and Zuko to jump apart, startled. “Is this what it’s going to be like? Am I going to have to round you up every time you’re around this boy?

“Uh?” Zuko said, self-consciously rubbing his cheek and glancing at Sokka. “Yeah. Probably. We just got—sidetracked.”

“Yeah,” Sokka nodded, making no attempt to cover the quickly-darkening mark below his jaw. “We dropped something. So, uh, had to find it.”

“You dropped something,” Jin deadpanned, moving her glare between the two of them. “Well, _Lee_ found your _phone_ , Zuko, so you might want to—”

Zuko didn’t need to be told twice and darted out the door with a yell, “Lee!”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

The night ended in Zuko’s hotel room. It was already past midnight by the time they had eaten and seen Suki and Yue off. Their eyes had felt heavy but they resisted closing them, knowing that they were single-digit hours away from Soolong’s flight. They had drifted off without meaning to, however, tangled up with each other on top of the covers, a cliche rom com flickering silently in the background.

They woke up together as the morning sunlight started to stream through the window, and blinked at each other slow and sappily as they came into consciousness. They had fallen asleep in yesterday’s clothes, but that didn’t seem to matter; even after a long and exciting night, Zuko felt recharged just by being near Sokka. When Sokka smiled at him, soft and sleepy, Zuko’s heart melted.

“Hi,” Zuko whispered, touching Sokka’s cheek just to make sure he was real, to make sure he was _there_.

Sokka was solid and warm, and covered Zuko’s hand with his own, guiding it to his mouth so he could kiss his palm. Zuko’s breath caught in his chest. “Morning,” Sokka said, lips still pressed to his skin.

They were both thinking the same thing: _I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go._ Zuko could vaguely hear Lu Ten and Toklo moving around in the adjoining room, and knew they would have to soon. Sokka knew it, too, it seemed, and pulled Zuko closer for a chaste kiss, wanting to take advantage of the little time they had left.

“I really—like you,” Zuko whispered, playing with Sokka’s hair.

“Ha,” Sokka laughed, giving Zuko’s scarred cheek a gentle touch after his brow furrowed with worry at Sokka’s reaction. “I love you.”

Zuko froze, and Sokka’s eyes went wide.

“Is that—fuck, Zuko, was that too, I’m—”

Zuko cut him off with a much-less-chaste kiss, which Sokka returned with relieved enthusiasm. When Lu Ten cleared his throat from the connecting door, he graciously pretended he hadn’t seen Sokka groping his cousin’s ass. “Hey, kids.”

Sokka had the decency to stop kissing Zuko, but only just. “Time for me to head out?”

Lu Ten gave him an apologetic smile. “Just about. We leave in an hour. Don’t—start anything.”

“Fuck off,” Zuko groaned, dropping his head against the pillows as Lu Ten laughed and closed the door. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I don’t want to go, either,” Sokka said, brushing Zuko’s hair from his forehead.

“Have to?” Zuko asked softly, eyes closed.

“Have to,” Sokka confirmed, dipping to kiss him again. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“I miss you already,” Zuko’s voice broke a little, and Sokka clicked his tongue, moving to kiss Zuko’s throat—not starting anything, but just because he could, just because he knew Zuko loved it, just because he wanted to remember how Zuko felt against his lips forever.

Sokka’s phone pinged hours later, after he had made his way home, walked Puck, and burrowed into bed with his weight’s worth of blankets on top of him. He unearthed himself to check it, cringing away from the bright light. Tomkin had sent a picture of Zuko, asleep on the plane, curled up in Sokka’s hoodie. It was all Sokka could do to not start crying again, but he messaged Zuko instead.

Sokka: love you  
Sokka: miss you already   
Sokka: how do people just do this like   
Sokka: worth it OBVIOUSLY fucking worth it   
Sokka: but rn i think i’d miss u if you had gone to like, the store for an hour   
Sokka: i’m gonna see u soon. somehow. yk. we’ll figure it out   
Sokka: love you

A little while later, Sokka had forgotten to rebury himself in his blankets and was instead scrolling aimlessly on his phone. He shot off some stupid, nonsensical meme to Zuko just because he thought he’d like it, and his heart leapt as Zuko messaged him back. 

zuko: go to sleep  
zuko: i love you too   
zuko: thanks

Sokka: shut up  
Sokka: 🤠😘

zuko: 🤠😘  
zuko: cowboy kiss?

Sokka: cowboy in love

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ as always tomkin belongs to [hella1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella1975/pseuds/hella1975), toklo belongs to [muffinlance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance), emotional support belongs to [nettlewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nettlewine/pseuds/nettlewine)  
> ✩ love u guys, hope u enjoyeeeed


	22. twenty-two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ its sunday! wow!  
> ✩ hope yall like this guy, it maybe is one of my fav chapters for whatever reason who knows. i think that about every other chapter i write tho  
> ✩ also... peep the chapter count...  
> ✩ i might update slower by a day as we come to these last three chapters which is a terrifying statement to say but theyll still be relatively rapid fire bc, as yall know, i wild out  
> ✩ anyway enjoy!

“Are we boyfriends?” Zuko had asked quietly, laying beside Jet, cheek against the pillow. His face wasn’t scarred then; he was youthful, soft, unguarded.

Jet had snorted, not bothering to look at him as he got out of Zuko’s bed, finding his discarded clothes. “Fuck no, are you joking?”

Zuko closed his eyes to hide the sharp hurt. “Yeah, I’m joking,” he said, and Jet left him alone.

\--

“Do you love me?” Zuko had asked once, though he knew the answer. 

“Jesus, Zuko,” Jet had sneered, rolling his eyes. “Don’t be so fucking pathetic.”

“Yeah,” Zuko had said, closing his eyes. “Sorry.”

\--

“What the fuck is _wrong_ with you?” Jet had hissed, shoving Zuko into the bathroom and closing the door behind them. “What the fuck was that performance? How can someone mess up _that badly_?”

Zuko was used to being berated, by Jet, by his father, by Zhao, but it still _stung_. “I made one mistake, Jet.”

Jet laughed. “Yeah, sure. One mistake after another after _another_.” He stared at Zuko, pinning him harshly against a shelf, the metal cutting into his shoulder. “You don’t deserve anything, you know? You don’t deserve to be on stage, you don’t deserve your fucking name screamed, you don’t deserve to _be here_.”

“I know,” Zuko whispered, mouth dry. He did know. He had been told that all his life.

Jet looked him over before shaking his head in disgust and opening the door, heading back to the dressing room without another word. Zuko sank to the floor and held his head in his hands, covering his eyes, knees to his chest. He didn’t know how much time had passed before Tomkin found him, didn't notice he was there until Tomkin sat beside him and put his arm around him, making Zuko flinch.

“What’d he say?” Tomkin asked quietly, tucking him closer to battle Zuko’s fear. 

“Nothing,” Zuko whispered. Tomkin accepted it, knowing it was all he would get out of him, like it always was. “Tomkin?”

“Mm?”

Zuko didn’t say anything for a long moment before, quiet and weak and _needing_ , “Do you like me?”

Tomkin clicked his tongue and pulled him into a full hug, squeezing Zuko tight and pretending he didn’t know he was crying against his shoulder. “Of course I like you. You’re my best friend.”

Zuko nodded against him but was unable to speak, throat aching. Tomkin gave him a final squeeze before letting go. “Don’t tell Lu Ten.”

Tomkin gave him a look. “I won’t. But I don’t like it.”

“I know. Thanks.” Zuko took a breath before getting up, steeling himself and wiping his face, heading to the dressing room and avoiding everyone’s eyes, even his own in the mirror.

\--

“Do it,” Jet whispered into his ear, grinning in a way that made Zuko feel uneasy. “Don’t be a coward for once in your life.”

Zuko stalled by taking a long sip of his drink, some potent, fruity cocktail that Jet had ordered for him. The man was looking at him from across the bar, too obvious, too eager. He jerked his head to indicate he wanted Zuko to follow and, with a shove from Jet, he did.

They didn’t talk. Zuko didn’t know his name. All he knew that his heart was racing as the man pressed him against the wall, in a way that was not just nerves. It was a thrill to be wanted, to be kissed by a handsome stranger in a dark club at the insistence of his on-again, off-again (and currently somewhere in the middle) hookup. He let the man take the lead, let him kiss deeply, thoroughly, closing his eyes and being maneuvered through the experience. He didn’t notice the way he leaned, ensuring that there was an intentional gap between their bodies where Zuko was fully visible. He didn’t notice the folded bills Jet slipped him as he passed by. He didn’t notice Jet texting Zhao as they taxied back to the Soolong dorms, too busy staring out the window at the bright Tokyo nightlife and feeling turmoil and regret bubble within him, though he tried to interpret it as excitement.

\--

Zuko didn’t remember what happened. He knew they didn’t believe him, Lu Ten and Iroh and the doctors and everyone else who talked to him while he drifted in and out of a bleary haze in the hospital. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

What he did remember was his father ordering him home. It was framed as an invitation to dinner, but Zuko knew what his father meant. It was not an invitation; it never was. It was a summons. He remembered walking into the house, steps echoing in the opulent, empty space, being met by his father and Zhao in the dining room. He remembered the moment his mind shut down, forcing him through the motions, through the conversation, through the questions he wouldn’t know how to answer even if he had been in the right state of mind.

He woke up to the steady beeping of machines, one hand in Lu Ten’s and the other in Tomkin’s and Toklo asleep in the uncomfortable hospital chair, and half the sight he had had two and a half days ago. He felt the weight of bandages on his face, and the artificially-induced numbness under them. He heard the beeping speed up as he came to, heard Lu Ten waking and calling for his dad, heard Iroh rushing in and whispering, relieved, “ _Nephew_.”

That was all.

\--

Jet was gone when they went home. It wasn’t home anymore, either, Zuko learned. They were going to Seoul, and he would live with Uncle Iroh. Zuko wanted to _sob_ when he heard that, knew it meant abandonment, loneliness, being so utterly unwanted that he would never recover, but he didn’t. He packed what he had energy for, allowed Lu Ten to pack what he couldn’t.

It wasn’t until they were on the plane in Iroh-funded first class seats that he understood. Tomkin sat by his side, with Toklo and Lu Ten across from them, making sure they were in touching distance at all times. It was not just Zuko going to Seoul. It was Soolong. It was Lu Ten and Toklo and Tomkin, sticking by his side, loving him even after he ruined himself—ruined _them_. He hadn’t been abandoned, he wouldn’t be lonely, he wasn’t unwanted.

Generously, they looked away as his good eye started watering heavily, but quickly became attentive when he let out a quiet noise, unable to cry from one eye but horrible, aching pain that was bone-deep and full-bodied emanated from it in full force.

Zuko was scorched and scarred, but he was not alone. And that was what he could live for.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

“Are we boyfriends?” Zuko asked abruptly, a few days after they had wrapped up the international tour and had arrived back in Seoul. The question had been burning in his chest for weeks, but he had been too afraid of the answer to ask until it overtook him. Even if they _weren’t_ boyfriends, Zuko reasoned, he would still want Sokka, and Sokka would still want him, and they could continue as they had for as long as they could.

Sokka had been complaining about one of his shitty professors when Zuko interrupted him, but right as Zuko felt nausea roll in about Sokka’s hesitation and his mind began to race, trying to find a way out, Sokka let out a soft sigh. “We never really said, huh?”

“Yeah. No, no, we—we didn’t, I’m sorry, I’m being stupid—”

“Wait, hey, switch to video,” Sokka said, and Zuko’s phone pinged with the request. Sokka’s face appeared, beautiful and calm and with a scratch across his forehead from Puck stepping on his face last night. In the corner of the screen, Zuko could see himself, looking stressed and frantic and completely incomparable.

“I’m s—”

“Will you be my boyfriend, Zuko?”

Zuko stilled and blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“Come on,” Sokka grinned, eyes bright. “I’m a catch.”

“You want to be?” Zuko asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Sokka confirmed, giving him a warm smile. “Yeah, I want to be your boyfriend. Do you wanna be mine?”

“Yeah,” whispered Zuko, still feeling off-kilter.

“Chill, it’s settled. Gonna change your contact to ‘hubby’ and everything—”

That shocked Zuko back into his body and he groaned, fake retching. “Don’t even _say_ that, oh my God.”

“Too late! You’re my boyfriend, I can do what I want, no take backs.”

Zuko wasn’t quite able to joke back, wasn’t able to say ‘I’ll take it back if you call me hubby’ or ‘Wait, I guess I changed my mind’ on the off chance that Sokka would believe him. “Ha. Okay. Yeah.”

Sokka gave him a crinkly-eyed smile and Zuko’s heart skipped a beat. “Okay, I’m gonna keep working out, switch back to voice.”

“Can I watch?” Zuko asked, attempting _sly_ but achieving _obvious._ Sokka laughed loudly but set his phone against the wall so Zuko could see him run through a set of crunches, obligingly taking his shirt off midway through at Zuko’s hopeful suggestion.

Boyfriends. Okay.

\--

While they were able to talk to each other more than in passing now that Zuko was back home with a relatively consistent schedule, the fourteen-hour time difference was still something to contend with. They didn’t have to make too many sacrifices to make time for each other; they had long since perfected knowing when the other would be awake, as well as knowing that sending eight million texts when the other was asleep was appropriate communication. But sometimes Zuko turned in early to talk to Sokka before work, and sometimes, like now, Sokka woke up early to talk to Zuko _as_ he worked.

Zuko had holed himself away in his little downstairs studio, surrounded by monitors and editing equipment trying to work through his in-progress Blue Spirit album. While Sokka didn’t have the technical know-how, Zuko had fixed plenty of aggravating problems by talking at Sokka, who hummed and said “oh yeah?” and “huh” and “could be” at appropriate intervals.

Sokka was currently drifting pleasantly in and out of sleep as he listened to Zuko run through tracks over and over, muttering to himself in a mix of English and Japanese in a way that made Sokka’s sleepy heart swoon.

“Hey,” Sokka said, watching him make the tiniest edits with half-closed eyes all the way across the world.

“Mm?” Zuko asked, not looking away from the screen.

“Do you love me?” Sokka knew he did, he never doubted it, but it was still a beautiful rush to hear him confirm it, hear the confidence in his voice, hear the tenderness reserved only for Sokka, the same that Sokka reserved only for Zuko.

“Of course I do,” Zuko whispered after a moment, looking at him.

“ _Nice_ ,” said Sokka, closing his eyes again. “Simp.”

Zuko rolled his eyes and had never felt softer. “Shut up, asshole. You don’t work until what, one?”

“Uh-huh,” Sokka mumbled, already falling back to sleep. “Might rest my eyes.”

“You should, sleepy boy. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“And?”

Zuko rolled his eyes. “And I love you.”

“Love you.” 

Sokka grinned, satisfied, and hung up. 

Zuko leaned back in his chair for a moment before opening a track that Sokka had definitely not heard, making a few minor edits and doing a few listen-throughs before humming, content, and going back to the official Blue Spirit work. At least that was one track down. Now for the other twelve.

\--

“That was fucking incredible!” Sokka yelled as soon as Zuko answered the phone, his blue eyes bright and close to the screen.

Zuko laughed, joy bubbling in his chest. “You watched it?”

Sokka rolled his eyes. “Of course I watched it, I’m not gonna miss my boyfriend winning something so fucking huge—”

“It’s not that big,” Zuko said, but his slowly-creeping grin betrayed him. “Just, you know—”

“‘ _Just, you know,_ ’ one step away from a Grammy, right? No big deal. You did so fucking good, like, so hot, _so_ hot, I can’t believe it.”

Zuko laughed, cheeks burning. “Thanks, Sokka.”

“ _So hot_ ,” he emphasized, wide-eyed. “And I’m not saying this as a fan, okay? I’m saying this as your boyfriend who loves you and loves your ass.”

“You haven’t seen my ass,” Zuko said, glancing to make sure his bedroom door was closed.

“Don’t need to see it to love it, bro,” Sokka grinned, sharp and toothy, just the way Zuko liked. Zuko wasn’t sure he’d ever told Sokka he liked it so much, but Sokka always knew how to get to him in the best ways whether he voiced them or not.

“Don’t call me ‘bro’ when you’re talking about my ass,” Zuko laughed, but his smile faded, growing concerned. “Sokka, you know I can’t send you—pictures, right? With—who I am, I mean—”

“ _Pictures,_ ” Sokka snorted. “I know, babe, I’m just talking you up.” He shot Zuko a saucy wink. “I can wait to see your ass in person.”

Zuko’s blush returned easily, as did his grin. “Okay. Ha, uh. Did you like the performance? Really? I think I was really shaky during ‘Aloe’ and I _know_ I slipped during ‘Medusa’ but I was really hoping it wasn’t obvious and—”

“Zuko,” Sokka stopped him, gentle and honest. “You did great. And you deserved that award.”

Zuko was used to being praised, by their fans, by Soolong, by Iroh, but it still sent a wave of hesitant bashfulness down his spine every time. He had been working on self-doubt for as long as he had been seeing a therapist (in other words, for as long as they had left ZhaoWorks), and it was starting to show. Instead of arguing, Zuko smiled, ducked his head, and reveled in his boyfriend’s words. “Thanks.”

They talked as Sokka got ready for the day and Zuko got ready for the night, just as they had done from practically the very beginning. Zuko said hi and bye to Puck as Sokka left, and they talked as Sokka walked to class in the December snow, wearing a Soolong-branded hat he had bought as a joke but seemed to never take off and carrying a monstrous travel mug of coffee that made him have to actually watch how much he gesticulated with his hands. 

Lee knocked on the door just as Sokka got to campus, bursting in without permission as _everyone_ did. “Soju bombs,” he said, leaving without another world.

Zuko shook his head but grinned, glancing at the glinting award for the Blue Spirit EP on his desk before heading out to join his groupmates.

Sokka received a video from Lu Ten a few hours later of Zuko and Tomkin slamming their foreheads on the table before chugging pints of foaming beer with a shot of fallen soju.

Zuko woke up late and hungover tucked between Lu Ten and Tomkin, the award still on his desk, and to a text from Sokka.

Sokka: who needs n*des when you have this???

\--

The boys were acting _weird_.

Zuko wasn’t the most perceptive person in the world, but he could see the way Lu Ten shifted, the glances Toklo and Tomkin kept sending him, the restlessness Lee exuded. Ostensibly, they were on their way to a swanky Los Angeles bar to meet with their production team the night before the Grammys, but they were acting too oddly for that to be _all_. He ran through their birthdays (it was still another month until Toklo’s), their various anniversaries (they had re-debuted in June), any other important dates (none that he could think of), so he chalked it up to an anxious imagination.

The restaurant was normal as far as he could tell, and he could see a few other celebrities in town for the awards show, as well as Iroh and some of their team. He sighed in relief, just a little. Not a trap, just anxiety.

“Let’s get drinks from the bar,” Lu Ten said, putting a guiding hand on his back.

“We could just—” Zuko started.

“Nope,” Lu Ten said pleasantly.

Zuko sighed and gave in easily, taking a seat at the bar beside him and glancing around, eyes catching on something—someone—immediately.

A few seats down, Sokka raised his glass in greeting, eyes twinkling.

\--

Zuko posted his second-most-liked Instagram post the next morning. Sokka with his hair up, sipping coffee on the hotel room patio, framed by the soft L.A. sunrise. He hadn’t thought about it as a ‘coming out’ or a ‘big reveal’ or anything of the sort, but he did take a long time to figure out exactly what he wanted to say. He wanted, more than anything, to be _honest_. So he was.

Zuko (Soolong)  
@Zuko

I’m in love.

\--

March saw Sokka in Zuko’s bed after an exhausting fifteen hour flight to Seoul. He had endured teasing about jetlag from people who had enough airline miles between them to stay in the air for five years straight, and had _tried_ to make a day out of it, to go visit Zuko’s favorite parks and spots and whatever else, but he was willingly cajoled into bed after falling asleep on Zuko’s shoulder every chance he got.

“Not sleepy,” he mumbled sleepily, hugging a pillow as he watched Zuko close the curtains to block out the midday light.

Zuko gave him an amused smile. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Let’s go to karaoke like Tom promised.”

“What if _I’m_ sleepy, huh?” Zuko grinned, crawling into bed with him and tugging the pillow out of his arms.

“Well, if _you’re_ sleepy—” Sokka reached for him, spooning him close as a pillow-replacement as Zuko laughed. Sokka nuzzled the nape of his neck, hands roaming under Zuko’s shirt to feel warm, bare skin. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Zuko whispered, tracing over his cheekbone with his thumb, laughing when Sokka turned his head to catch it with a kiss. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Neither can I.” Sokka grinned and opened his eyes just enough to see Zuko’s. “Maybe I will after we nap, though. Just for, like, a _little bit_.”

“A little bit,” Zuko agreed, and kissed him awake twelve hours later. “We should eat something.”

“Zuko?” Sokka asked blearily. “What?

Zuko grinned and kissed him again, soft and sweet. “You’ll feel like shit if you sleep much longer. Let me make you breakfast.”

“ _Ooh_ ,” Sokka crooned, still half-asleep. “Charmer. Careful, I might think you _like_ me.”

Zuko rolled his eyes and gave him another kiss, running his hand through Sokka’s hair and, even with a week together remaining, already missing Sokka’s absence in his bed. “Can’t have that.”

Sokka grinned. “Nope. You might think I like you too.”

Zuko ended up making breakfast for the entire group as they emerged one by one, enticed by the sounds of cooking in progress. He didn’t mind, no matter how much he pretended to complain, as he looked at them all sat around the kitchen island, laughing and joking and acting like Sokka was with them every day.

Sokka was his family now, too. In a different way than the others, of course, but he was integrated almost seamlessly into the people who loved him, who cared for him, who saved him over and over and over again. Sokka was as permanent as they were. Zuko had no doubt.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Sokka agreed to do a livestream with them with very little reluctance and with very much assurance that he didn’t have to, he didn’t have to be more public than he was, he didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to do—all of which he cut off with a roll of his eyes and a toothy grin and a “Look, I’m too handsome for you to keep to yourself, Zuko, give the people a treat.”

The producers decided on MarioKart, because sometimes they liked the challenge of rapid-fire censoring the many swears it produced. Zuko lost the first round deliberately and without any amount of subtlety so he could sit on Sokka’s lap, leaning on his chest and enjoying the strong arms that wrapped around him. They weren’t watching the chat this stream, but it was, predictably, going absolutely wild.

Sokka’s phone buzzed right after he lost to Toklo and passed the controller to Lee, ready to watch the ensuing bloodbath Lu Ten had promised would come.

dad: my intern sent me this?????

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Sokka said, going wide-eyed as he looked at the livestream link from Hakoda. He dialed immediately, maneuvering Zuko off his lap and jumping off the couch. “I forgot to tell my _dad_ —”

Toklo and Lee were too absorbed in trying to virtually kill each other to look away, but Lee offered “Oh shit, that’s crazy,” before knocking Toklo mercilessly off Rainbow Road.

Lu Ten glanced at Zuko, trying to assess the situation. Zuko shrugged, not worried. Sokka had told him enough about Hakoda to know it would be fine.

“Hey, Dad,” Sokka said, walking down the hallway. “Yeah, so, I’m dating Zuko, you know? From Soolong? Yeah, from the posters—” he paused, “Oh! Yeah, I’m in Korea. My bad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ as always tomkin belongs to [hella1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella1975/pseuds/hella1975), toklo belongs to [muffinlance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance), coerced grammar lessons belong to [nettlewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nettlewine/pseuds/nettlewine)  
> ✩ also: im reccing kate nettlewine's [extremely cute bts tailor shop au](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27866577/chapters/68229701) bc i love it. 10/10 cute do recommend  
> ✩ follow me on tumblr @ kouje if u want to, and check out the [soolong playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0aa84Wmh07VPnaymrhVPnD?si=wA2WHCLdSdq4tWmopMNj4w) i maybe am gonna restructure if i get bored enough  
> ✩ hope yall enjoyed!!!!!!! also ty for kind comments on the last chapter lmao sometimes im a sensitive bitch u know how it be


	23. twenty-three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ monday! happy  
> ✩ yaaaall 2 more chapters and im SAD what do i DO with my life after this  
> ✩ that is a question: what do i do with my life after this? if yall have any prompts or ideas u wanna throw at me that u want to read in my weird writing style pleeease lmk i have a few floating ideas but nothing im super sold on yet. i thirst for the future.  
> ✩ hope yall enjoy this boy which is fluffier than most and most are pretty fluffy

VLIVE - now  
Soolong: 🐲 Zuko Tells All 🐲

“Hi, guys!” Zuko smiled as the live started, the corner of his right eye crinkling pleasantly. “I had some time tonight so I thought I could kind of—talk. I’ve had a lot of, like, comments and Tweets and questions and stuff about—ha, you guys know about what. So, uh. Ask away.”

He paused to take a bite of ramen and read the chat.

“Okay, so—how did I meet Sokka? His name is Sokka, by the way, I know a lot of you know that, but I don’t know that I’ve said it myself. Uh. It’s a really, really long story. But I met him—wow, I met him three years ago now, but we only started really talking two years ago.” He stopped to read the chat again and laughed. “Yeah, it’s a long story. We started talking and calling and stuff, and we started actually dating, uh, eight months ago, just about. It’s really—it’s really good. It’s really good.”

Zuko’s face had never been more honest, or more _happy_. He took another bite to hide his smile, unable to contain his love for Sokka without some sort of physical reaction.

“Yeah. I’m in love with him. I’ve said that before, for sure. God, yeah, I’m so in love, it’s crazy. I can’t believe it _feels_ like that—” he cut himself off with a laugh. “He’s the best. And no, he’s not here. He doesn’t, uh, he doesn’t live here. He’s in school right now, he goes to MIT.” There was no mistaking the pride in Zuko’s voice or the tease in his grin. “He’s, like, the smartest idiot I’ve ever met. But he’s super smart.”

He paused and blinked. “Yeah, uh. Architecture. How do you guys always _know_ stuff?”

After taking another bite, he nodded, but looked a _little_ more closed off than before. “I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it yet. He graduates in May but, uh—we haven’t—talked about it. He loves Boston and I love Seoul, so, uh. We’ve been long-distance for a while and it sucks, sure, but it also works for us. I’m busy _all the time_ so it almost doesn’t make a difference.” He knew that was a lie, but it was one he told himself often. “So, uh, no matter what he—what _we_ decide, we’ll stay together and it’ll be great.”

He smiled and found himself grateful for another question. “ _Yes_ , I think he’s hot. You’ve seen him. I don’t think anyone in the world could say he’s not hot. And—” he laughed, “he does look a little like T and T. They’re from the same area in Washington, like, same tribe and everything. They didn’t meet before Soolong, but—isn’t that funny? They played on the same hockey team, just a couple years apart.”

Zuko laughed. “Yeah, it is funny. Uh—yeah. I love his friends. We talk a lot now, uh, all of us do, including the guys. Tomkin is best friends with Sokka’s ex-girlfriends now, he’s abandoned me. Yeah, please, Tweet at him, he deserves it. But don’t be actually mean—” he added quickly. “He’s basically the whole reason Sokka and I are together.”

He laughed again, reddening slightly. “Yeah, uh, that’s part of the longer story that I don’t really want to tell right now. But Tomkin gave me the final push, you know? There’s no better wingman. There’s no better friend, even though he _abandoned me_ —”

Tomkin ran into his room and threw his arms around Zuko, who yelled as his chair rolled to the side from the impact. “I did _not_ , shut up, I love you!”

Zuko hugged him back as the chat exploded. “Love you too, Little Tom.”

“Fuck you!” Tomkin said, not letting go of him.

“I’m just saying, I’ve met bigger Toms.” Zuko laughed and kept his arms around his waist as Tomkin made the retributional decision to sit on Zuko’s lap and participate in the livestream.

“I was listening in the other room until this asshole told you guys to _hate me_ , what kind of monster—”

“I did not!” Zuko laughed again, messages in Zuko’s support rolling in. “I just asked them to _consider_ changing their biases, that’s all.”

“Oh, if that’s all,” Tomkin pouted dramatically, stealing Zuko’s chopsticks and taking a large bite.

Zuko rolled his eyes and shoved him. “Pull up a chair or leave.”

“No.” Tomkin took another bite and leaned back onto his chest. “I’m getting questions, I can’t abandon them like I so cruelly abandoned you. Uh, I love Sokka, Lu Ten loves Sokka, Lee wants to beat him up but in a loving way, uh, Toklo currently hates him because Sokka’s better at League of Legends and, I mean, you guys know Toklo.”

“Toklo blocked his number but keeps texting him through ours,” Zuko grinned. “He’ll get over it after he wins something, don’t worry.”

Sokka: he’ll never win.

Zuko looked at his phone and laughed. “ _Hi_ , Sokka, go to sleep.”

Sokka: nope wanna look at u  
Sokka: show ur teeth  
Sokka: wait ur hands  
Sokka: please dont actually those are just for meeeee

Tomkin laughed as he read the texts and leaned into the webcam, baring his teeth and waving his hands. There would inevitably be hundreds and hundreds of screenshots on Twitter within the minute. “Why do you guys _like_ this?” he asked, laughing as the responses tended towards “cute!” and “hot!” and “sexy!”

Zuko pulled him away from the camera with a huff, tightening his grip around his waist. “I think I’m gonna go since Tomkin’s a menace and I wanna call my boyfriend.”

Sokka: yes yes yes yes yes

Tomkin blew a raspberry and ruffled Zuko’s hair, grinning as he dodged. “Bye, babies!”

Zuko waved and ended the stream, pushing Tomkin off of his lap. “ _Go_.”

“Fine, fine. Say hi to Sokka but not while you’re naked.”

Zuko groaned. “We don’t _do_ that!”

Tomkin hummed skeptically, but he tended to burst in unannounced enough that he believed him. “Sure. Bye, hot stuff.”

Zuko rolled his eyes and flipped him off as he left, answering Sokka’s call before it had a chance to ring and bringing his phone close to his face, giving him a boxy grin that was all teeth.

Sokka laughed, delighted. “Nice, yes!”

Zuko pulled back and rolled his eyes. “It’s way too early for you to be up. It’s _four_ in the _morning_.”

“I haven’t been able to sleep,” Sokka sighed heavily, mood shifting. “I can’t stop thinking about that fucking final.”

Zuko clicked his tongue and got in bed, flopping against the pillows. “Not sleeping isn’t going to help.”

“I know, ugh.” Sokka flopped against his own, throwing an arm over his eyes. “I think it’s better for me to not sleep, honestly. If I try now, it’ll only be, like, two hours and I’ll be groggy, you know? So I’m just gonna do an all-nighter the night before my final final that I’m terrified of, you know, easy peasy, no problemo, checkmate.”

“Sokka,” Zuko cooed. “You’ve been studying too much to not do great. If Toph thinks you’re going to pass, you _know_ you’re going to. She wouldn’t fake confidence.”

“I know that _theoretically_.” Sokka sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m just freaked the fuck out. It’s the last one. If I fail this, I fail _college_.”

Zuko rolled his eyes affectionately. “No, you won’t. You’ll have to retake it, you already know you can. But you won’t need to because you won’t fail and you will graduate and it’ll be _great_ and you’re gonna be the best architect in the world. Easy peasy, no problemo, checkmate.”

Sokka laughed at his accent, happiness breaking through the stress. “We’ll see.”

“We will,” he smiled. “You sure you don’t want to sleep?”

“Yeah. Wanna distract me?”

Zuko hummed. “I was planning on some studio time if you want to come with me.”

“Hell yeah,” Sokka grinned. “I love watching you work. Super sexy.”

“I just sit in front of a monitor for hours, how is that sexy?”

Sokka laughed. “I’m a fucking Twitch streamer, babe, how can I _not_ find it sexy. And I get to hear stuff sometimes! Soolong boyfriend privilege.”

Zuko rolled his eyes but grinned, getting up and stretching tall. “Okay, let’s go. Show me Puck.”

“Dick pics but make it Puck pics?”

“Gross but yeah,” Zuko grinned, taking him down to the studio-filled basement and setting him up to watch.

He closed the file he had been working on the night before. He had elected to not include it on the soon-to-be-released Blue Spirit album; nothing was _quite_ right the more he listened to it, and he wanted it to be the best thing he had ever written. There was nothing he wanted more than for it to be perfect, as close to perfect as the person he wrote it about. It might take some time, but he hoped that it would be worth it.

He kept Sokka busy and entertained until it was time for him to get dressed and leave, ready to take one of the most important tests of his life.

“Love you. You’re going to kill it. Don’t worry,” Zuko said confidently, smiling at Sokka with belief in his eyes.

Sokka stuck his tongue out. “Thanks. Love you too.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Sokka called him as soon as he walked out of the classroom, clutching his scored exam and beaming.

“You passed, right?” Zuko asked with a grin. He had obviously been waiting for Sokka to call and, as they both tended to do, answered without giving the phone a chance to ring.

“I PASSED!” he yelled, attracting looks from passersby; it was exam week for them, as well, so he earned some grins as well. “I’m gonna graduate. Holy fuck, _Zuko_ —” Saying his boyfriend’s name definitely attracted more looks than the yelling.

Zuko laughed, eye crinkling and looking undeniably _proud_. “That’s incredible, Sokka. I’m so proud of you, I knew you would—”

“Fuck, I’m in love with you. I’m proud of myself and in love with you and those are the only two things I’m gonna feel for the next week and you’re just gonna have to put up with that.” Sokka knew he was rambling, but Zuko _never_ minded when he rambled. It was one of the many, many reasons he loved him, one among millions.

“When’s your graduation?” Zuko asked.

“May twentieth. I’m gonna throw up thinking about it.”

Zuko laughed. “No, you won’t.”

“I’m flying out to Seoul right after,” Sokka said. He’d been _considering_ it for a while, had been saving up enough since his last trip to make it happen without much worry, and there was no better graduation present to himself than seeing Zuko for a couple of weeks.

“What?” Zuko asked, abrupt. It wasn’t the reaction Sokka expected.

“What?” Sokka asked, dragging the word out.

“I mean, uh. You want to visit here? Why, though, uh—”

“ _Uh_ ,” Sokka said, giving him a look. “Because I want to _see you?_ What do you mean, ‘why’?”

“Maybe, like, hold off? Maybe in a month or so, not—right after graduation, your dad’s gonna come visit, right?”

Sokka sat on a bench to the side of the campus walkway, hurt. “You don’t want me to?”

“No!” Zuko said quickly. “No, I mean, yes, I do. I do want you to, really bad—”

“But you don’t?” He knew he sounded a little pathetic, and was sure Zuko could see the hurt written on his face; he was as much of an open-book as Zuko.

“I do! But—”

“ _Zuko_ ,” he said quietly, joy quickly fading. “Don’t—”

“I already got a ticket! That’s the only reason!”

That caused Sokka to pause. “What?”

Zuko looked halfway frantic but very honest. “I’m flying to Boston for your graduation, I don’t not want you here! I always want you here. I wanted to surprise you, fuck, I didn’t mean to make you sad. You should be so happy today, I’m sorry, Sokka.”

Sokka stared at him over the screen for a long moment. “You’re coming for my graduation? To Boston?”

“Of course I am,” Zuko said, softly.

“It’s not that important, babe. I know you have work to do.”

Zuko scoffed. “Of course it’s important. There’s nothing in the world I want to do more than see you.”

Sokka’s heart fluttered. “You’re really coming?”

“I’m really coming.”

“I’m, wow—I’m sorry for freaking out a little.”

“No!” Zuko said quickly. “Don’t, I wasn’t, uh, I didn’t handle it well. Sorry for making you freak out.”

“Nah,” Sokka dismissed, yawning wide and interrupting himself before he could say more.

“Nap time,” Zuko said fondly, smiling when Sokka nodded. “Want me to stay on while you get home?”

“Uh-huh. Always want to talk to you.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Suki picked him up from the airport, both of them rushing as quickly as they could.

“Sorry!” Zuko yelled to the fans who had spotted him as he ran to Suki’s well-loved car. “I’m late, I can’t talk!”

Suki waved at him in hasty encouragement, laughing as he threw his bag in the back and hopped in the passenger seat, breathing hard. “Don’t you do a harder workout on stage, like, all the time?”

“I don’t run through an entire airport when I’m on stage, oh my God, I’m dying.” She was already pulling off as he got his seatbelt on, still half-panting. “Thank you for this, Suki, really.”

“Eh, you owe me another life debt, don’t worry about it.” She waved a dismissive hand. “I can’t believe your flight was delayed so fucking much, dude, that sucks.”

“They gave me a voucher for dinner,” Zuko offered, perking up.

Suki gave him a side-long glance. “You’re rich.”

Zuko sometimes, genuinely, forgot. “Well—uh. I guess—it’s the thought that counts.”

“The thought that counted would be to not fuck up scheduling so bad. Fuck, text Sokka that you’ve landed, he’s stressed the fuck out. Katara had to keep him from trying to skip his own graduation.”

Zuko winced. “She won, right?”

“Yeah, she did, don’t worry. If Dadkoda hadn’t been there, though—” Zuko visibly gulped and Suki smirked. “Oh, _yeah_. It’s meet the parent day, huh? Parents, I guess, Bato’s here too.”

“He is?” Zuko asked weakly. Sokka had told him Bato was basically his dad’s brain. If Zuko could get Bato to like him, Hakoda would follow easily. Sokka had also told him that Hakoda would like him for sure _anyway_ , but that was hard for Zuko to believe. It was going to be hard enough to be around Sokka’s _father_ , the pressure of both being himself and being someone Hakoda would like was a lot. And now—he’d be meeting Hakoda a day later than planned, without Sokka’s clear affection as a buffer between them.

“Chill, bud, he’s great. They both are. They’ll like you.” She punched his shoulder. “If _I_ can like you, anyone can.”

“What?” Zuko asked, rubbing his arm. “You’re—so nice, Suki, I don’t think that’s a good metric.”

“Tell that to the people Sokka crushed on after me and Yue. My critique knows no bounds.”

“Oh.” Zuko blinked, looking out the window. At least he’d already passed one test, even if he hadn’t known there was a real test to begin with.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Hakoda and his husband were assessing him with no attempt at subtlety. They wore matching stern expressions, arms crossed over their suited chests, standing tall (taller than Zuko), proud (prouder than Zuko), and intimidating (more intimidating than Zuko could ever, ever hope to be).

“D-Dadkoda—” Zuko stuttered and went _bright_ red, eyes horrified. “Fuck, fuck, oh God, sorry for saying fu— _Hakoda_ , Hakoda, hi, sorry, it’s an honor to meet you.”

They kept staring at him, expressions unchanged until Bato burst out laughing, wiping his eyes. “Oh, fuck, Hakoda. I like him.”

Hakoda nodded after a moment, still peering at Zuko critically. “I’ll consider it.”

Zuko’s heart was in his throat, heart _racing_. “Oh, God,” he whispered. He could hear Suki and Yue snickering behind him, but he kept his eyes on the men like they would pull scythes out any second. 

Yue stepped forward and put her arm around his waist, leaning on his shoulder fondly. “We approve. He’s the sweetest one out of all of us.”

Zuko blinked and looked at her skeptically. “What? I’m not _sweet_ , no one’s ever called me _sweet_ —”

Yue hummed and gave him a bright-eyed smile, beautiful and perfect. “I just did! Come, sit between us, we’re the Been There, Done That, Doing That Gang.”

Bato cracked up again and Hakoda groaned, covering his face with his hands. “You were the good one, Yue! The best one!”

“Hey!” Suki said, staking out their seats a short way away.

“Thank you, Dadkoda,” Yue said pleasantly, taking a seat between him and Zuko, providing him welcome, welcome relief.

“Thank you,” Zuko whispered.

She squeezed his arm and Suki kicked her legs over his lap. “We’re being selfish,” Suki said with a grin. “Don’t worry.”

They were practically in the rafters as they had to find space to fit Sokka and Toph’s seven-person crew (Toph’s parents declined their invitation to sit with them in favor of much more peaceful seats near the front), but they quieted as the commencement music started and the students started filing in. They were unable to see Sokka until he was called on stage and, collectively, they went _wild_.

On the big screen set up for the event, Sokka beamed and waved wildly, laughing as he accepted his diploma. He posed for the picture at the end of the stage with his diploma in one hand and a finger heart held to his cheek in the other. They cheered just as loudly for Toph, as well, hardstyling for her photo and walking out of the arena, calling it quits after having done her part.

After Sokka and Toph’s turns, the ceremony was _extremely long_ and _extremely boring._ Fresh off a fourteen-hour red-eye flight from Seoul, Zuko fell asleep on Suki’s welcoming shoulder, and Yue shook him awake as soon as they were able to sneak out without too many glares. Katara sent Sokka a gloating picture of them all once they got outside, free and unburdened by graduation robes.

Sokka replied with “bet” and jumped on Zuko’s back just a moment later.

“Holy shit!” Zuko yelled, ducking down and turning as soon as he was let go before being quickly scooped into a hug and even more quickly scooped into a much-too-passionate-for-public-visibility kiss. “Sokka—” Zuko said against his lips.

“Uh-huh,” Sokka agreed against Zuko’s, kissing him again, one hand comfortingly on the nape of Zuko’s neck and the other fiery on the skin above Zuko’s jeans. Zuko forgot about their audience at his touch and returned the kiss whole-heartedly, throwing his arms around Sokka’s neck.

Hakoda cleared his throat with a loud and exaggerated “ _Ahem._ ”

Zuko jumped but Sokka did not, leveling his father with a glare. “Do you know how many times I walked in on you two doing this shit?” he asked, pointing between Hakoda and Bato in accusation. “I’m allowed some embarrassing make-out seshes with my boyf.”

Zuko made a weak face. “Can we not call it that? And can we also—not right now?” He lowered his voice and muttered, “Your _dad_ is here.”

Sokka pouted but kissed his temple anyway. “Fine, fine, torture the graduation boy, that’s fine—”

“ _Ugh_ ,” Toph said, sneaking up on them from seemingly out of nowhere. “You deserve torture for making us sit through that.”

Sokka squawked. “You graduated too! What do you mean _I_ made you sit through it?”

“I wouldn’t have gone if you didn’t want a buddy! That’s two hours of my life gone forever.”

“You just would have spent them sleeping anyway,” Sokka laughed and reached to ruffle her hair affectionately, just to make her huff. “Can we get lunch or something? If we hurry, we can get in somewhere before all those suckers get out.”

Zuko ended up tucked under Sokka’s arm at their favorite diner, the one they had gone to the first night they met. Listening to Sokka and Hakoda talk like he would _never_ talk to his own father, seeing Katara and Aang make heart eyes at each other, watching Suki and Toph arm wrestle across the table with Yue cheering both of them on in turns—he felt more at peace with strangers than he ever thought he would. But then again, they weren’t strangers anymore.

Eventually, Soolong would end up in Boston again, and they would all be together like they had been the year before. For some reason, the thought made his heart squeeze uncomfortably. He realized, with a pang, that if Soolong was in Boston, and both of their groups were together, Sokka would still be _here_. Zuko pushed that feeling to the back of his mind forcefully, not willing to bring that up until he worked up the courage (that is to say: possibly never).

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Zuko posted Sokka’s graduation picture, diploma in hand and finger heart against his cheek, to Instagram that night. It was his third most-liked picture.

Zuko (Soolong)  
@Zuko  
  
I’m in love with the smartest dumb boy on the planet. I’m smarter and dumber being around him and I’ve never been happier. Congratulations on graduation to the love of my life, the man of my dreams, my light in the dark. I love you, Sokka. Don’t make fun of me for this caption later or I’ll block you.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Sokka posted on Instagram that night, as well, a picture of Puck laying on top of Zuko, both of them sleeping deeply in Sokka’s bed.

pucks dad  
@boomsokkasokka

yo zyrtec is a godsend broskis look at this shit look at this shit look how CUTE im so in love my dudes my bros my guys im so in love

also i graduated from mit today lol sexy of me ik

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Sokka stood and shook the interviewer’s hand across the table, wearing the same suit he had worn to the Grammys a few months earlier. “Thank you for your time, ma'am.”

“Of course,” the interviewer smiled, and Sokka hoped it really was a promise that he saw behind it. “We’ll be sure to contact you.”

Sokka nodded in thanks again and hesitated for only a second before asking, “You have a location in Seoul, correct?”

“We do,” she said. “Why do you ask?”

Zuko met him after his interview at a nearby dog park, playing fetch with an enthusiastic Puck who had already adopted him as his second dad. “Hey!” Zuko smiled, waving at him. “How did it go?”

“Really well,” Sokka said with a warm smile, coming close to hug him from behind. “It went really well.”

Zuko turned to kiss him softly and laughed when Puck leapt up to lick his cheek. “Okay, okay. It’s Papa’s turn, Daddy’s arm is tired.”

Sokka laughed loudly, squeezing him in a tight hug before letting go and wrestling the stick from Puck. “That’s what you’re going with?”

Zuko shrugged, pink and grinning. “You didn’t leave me with much of a choice! I don’t want to be Otasan.”

“You don’t want to be Appa?” Sokka grinned. “You can match Appa!”

Zuko rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna be Appa to match Appa. I’ll be Daddy just to make you cringe.”

Sokka laughed and shoved his shoulder before pulling him close again. “You suck.”

“Shut up,” Zuko smiled, hugging around his waist. " _You_ suck."

“Woof,” Puck resoundingly agreed, jumping up on both of them with muddy paws.

They couldn’t bring themselves to mind. Wrapped up in each other and watching Puck bound around, life was close to perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ as always tomkin belongs to [hella1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella1975/pseuds/hella1975), toklo belongs to [muffinlance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance), less comma corrections than previous chapters belongs to [nettlewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nettlewine/pseuds/nettlewine)  
> ✩ love u guys!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


	24. twenty-four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ one more chapter to go and i feel some type of way  
> ✩ hope u all enjoy this lengthy boy, i had fun with him <3

Sokka left Boston with a lighter heart than he thought he would. He was leaving his friends, sure, but they were all transplants in their own way: Suki from the seasoned south, Aang from everywhere and nowhere at once, Yue from the chilly east coast, Toph from the hilly mountains, and Sokka and Katara from the piney northwest—they found themselves, and found each other, in Boston.

Sokka met Suki first. It was before he started working at the coffee shop, and Sokka, new to the city and unable to sleep, had gone to a corner store just for something to _do_. He bumped into Suki as he turned a corner without paying attention, both of them dropping their armfuls of assorted snacks. (“Can’t sleep?” Suki had asked, seeing the bags under his eyes. “Me either.” They sat on the steps of the house next door like vagrant teenagers, sharing candy and introductions. If Suki put in a good word for him as soon as she saw him walk into the coffee shop by chance the next day, she never said. But he could guess.)

Aang was next. He had been in one of Katara’s undergraduate morality classes, and, reportedly, had made a passionate argument against the pretense of the trolley problem, and then another passionate argument in favor of Katara’s amazing speaking voice. She was easy to flatter, all in all, and brought him home for a study session the next day. For all of Sokka’s skepticism about Aang’s optimistic, chirpy, happy-go-lucky attitude, Aang quickly became a huge part of their lives—as did his support dog, Appa, who was a monstrous creature that Sokka immediately adored. (“ _Katara_ ,” Sokka had begged, and Katara gave him an emphatic no, and Puck came along just two years later.)

Sokka met Yue next, and he was convinced he had met an angel. He saw her perfect skin, white hair, icy eyes floating all over him, like a moon goddess sent from above. He had broken up with Suki a few weeks prior after her early-twenties lesbian awakening, and that was all the time he needed to fall absolutely head over heels at first sight. Apparently, that was more literal than metaphorical at the time, as she had seen him get swiped by a car, hitting his head light enough to not cause a concussion but certainly enough to get _dizzy_. (She insisted on walking him home after it was determined he didn’t need an ambulance and Katara invited her in for tea. She was new to the area and going to a performance college for opera and piano, and all four of them had been absolutely enamored the very second they saw her. “Stay for movie night?” Sokka had asked, and Yue’s eyes had lit up beautifully, her friendlessness ended in a lucky unlucky afternoon.)

Toph was the last a few years later. Even at her young, genius age, she fit seamlessly into their close-knit group. After he met her at MIT orientation, she had been slotted willingly between Katara and Suki. She mercilessly guided Sokka through the shared classwork that he didn’t fully understand and even more mercilessly guided the others through teasing Sokka for almost anything. (Toph had started in on him within the very first minute of meeting his other friends. “You guys wanna hear what Sokka said in class yesterday?” she had asked, immediately ignoring Sokka’s screech and telling them in full detail. That in itself made her an unbeatable part of their crew.)

Really, though, Sokka had met Katara first. He took one look at the ugly, squirming, crying thing in his mother’s arms and, at just two years old, _knew_ he would dedicate his entire life to protecting his little sister. (“Mine?” he had asked, and at his parents’ confirmation, he touched her downy hair, and she stopped crying, just like magic.)

And now, like him, they were leaving. Katara and Aang were headed to Seattle, where Katara had been hired as a low-level lawyer at a prestigious firm that she would no doubt move up through at a rapid pace, and being close to their dad and step-dad was a very big plus. Toph was headed to Appalachia to get a Master’s degree in sustainable architecture, and because she loved the feel of mountains below her feet. Suki and Yue hadn’t actually decided if they were going to leave Boston, but Boston was the farthest Yue had traveled from home and Suki wanted to give her the world, and if that meant showing it to her, she would do anything to do so.

Sokka was headed to Seoul. He had been hired by an American architecture company with a base in Korea that, thankfully, was looking for a new trainee for their renovation and traditional design department. It paid just enough for Sokka to afford a tiny apartment in the city, forty-five long minutes away from Lu Ten’s (and, by proxy, Zuko’s) home in Cheongdam-dong. The apartment was just large enough that Sokka wouldn’t feel too guilty about leaving Puck there during work, but he knew that Puck would be a near-constant companion at all other times, travelling with him to Zuko’s and taking _lots_ of walks to make up for being cooped up. Zuko was smart enough to know he shouldn’t insist on paying for a better apartment—they both knew Sokka would be at his fancy rich-boy home more often than not.

Sokka was burningly excited. He was going to live near his boyfriend, the man he was _in love_ with, the man who was in love with _him_. He was employed in a field he was passionate about, and that seemed excited to employ him. He was taking a risk, a _huge_ risk, a terrifying risk, and there was nothing more he wanted to do.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Zuko felt like he was going insane—there were _worse_ places to go insane than baggage claim, but it certainly wasn’t the best place, and it wasn’t like Zuko got a choice. He had gotten there early and stayed in the waiting lot until he thought he was going to crawl out of his skin, deciding to risk public attention somewhere where he would at least have some sort of distraction from the jittery anxiety bouncing throughout his body. It was _excited_ anxiety, but anxiety nonetheless.

Thankfully, word about Sokka’s flight hadn’t gotten around to Soolong’s fans; there were no crowds laying in wait. Zuko welcomed the attention from the few fans who just happened to be in the airport at the time, signing autographs and making conversation while bouncing nervously and glancing at the gate every other second.

“Are you okay?” one had asked, watching him with concern.

“Uh—” Zuko flushed a little and grinned at her. “Yeah. I’m waiting for Sokka. Do you guys have parents waiting for you or—”

“They can wait,” she said cheerfully.

“Oh, is he _moving_?” another asked with a gasp, covering her mouth and nudging her friend at Zuko’s nod. “That’s so great! What about his dog?”

“You know about Puck?” he asked, furrowing his brow. “Oh. I guess you know everything. Uh, yeah, Puck too.”

It was like he was summoned. Puck spotted him from the gate and barked loudly, pulling at his leash to try to run to his other dad. He met Sokka’s eyes across the lobby and felt summoned, as well, breaking out into a run and meeting him halfway with enough force to knock Sokka backwards, Puck bouncing around them excitedly.

“You’re here—” Zuko whispered, unable to let go of him more than it took to pet Puck’s ears. “You’re here, oh my God—”

“I’m here,” Sokka confirmed, kissing Zuko’s hair over and over, needing to get his lips on him _somehow_ , and going for the only part he could access. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much, I’m so tired, I smell like stale air, if you let go of me I’m gonna scream—”

“Why would I ever let go?” Zuko asked, muffled against his shoulder. “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” Sokka grinned and squeezed him tighter, but allowed Puck to force himself between their bodies to feel included. “And I want to sleep in your bed, okay? We can christen mine tomorrow.”

Zuko laughed loud and delighted, pulling back to kiss him, stale airplane air and all. “I hate you. I’m in love with you.”

“Rude,” Sokka said, kissing him again. “I love you. I’m in love with you. I know I said I’d scream if you let go of me but—”

“Yeah. Let’s go home. You get your stuff, give me my son,” he said, grabbing Puck’s leash and kneeling to receive slobbery kisses, hugging around Puck’s neck.

Too many hours and one shower later, they fell into Zuko’s bed, door cracked to give Puck free reign of the Soolong house, much to the absolute delight of the boys. Zuko had barely slept the night before in anticipation, and they were both out like a light after only a few lazy kisses. They were some of the best of Zuko’s life.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

“Okay,” Sokka whispered as the Twitch stream started and viewers started to quickly flood in. Predictably, his follower count popped off after he and Zuko had gone explicitly public with their relationship. “Hi guys, I’m doing something a little different today. One of my work friends and I—Teo, he’s great, he said he’d play WoW with me sometime—we went to lunch earlier and there’s this, like, arcade, and there’s a Cubone plush and he’s Zuko’s _favorite_ so you _know_ I gotta, right?”

He glanced at the chat and grinned. “Yeah, he’s super cute. Cubone _and_ Zuko. The thing is that I’m _really_ bad at claw games, which _sucks_ because, uh, I just hate being bad at stuff. But I’m determined. There’s one in here—” he flipped the camera, “that looks kind of deformed? So you know Zuko will love it.”

Sokka set up his camera quietly and made his first attempt, followed by eight more, each with a quiet bitten off curse after he missed. He huffed and checked the chat before continuing. “Yeah, I love Seoul. I’m learning Korean pretty well, I think. They say the easiest way to learn a language is to just plunge yourself into it with no mercy,” he laughed. “So, moving to Korea was definitely doing that. Toklo’s helping me a lot, too. He learned how to read really easily and I’m still struggling. Hangul characters are just so _different_ from Latin ones, you know?”

His fifteenth try lifted the Cubone a little bit, but it slipped out. Sokka groaned. “Swear to God, I’ll die in here before I give up.” He skimmed the chat again before continuing. “My favorite food—I’m working my way through street foods and I don’t really have a _favorite_ yet. The general rule is the unhealthier the food is, the more I’ll like it, so, you know.”

Sokka laughed, followed by a slightly too-loud yell as Cubone slipped out of the claw again and grinned apologetically at an arcade worker. “Sorry! Mianhae! Uh, my favorite thing to do?” He picked up the camera and flipped it so he could wink. “ _You know_. Super Mario Sunshine with the guys, what else?”

He laughed as he set the camera back down and only half-paid attention to his next attempt, nearly yelling again when he succeeded, grabbing Cubone from the chute and jumping in celebration, picking the camera back up to show it off. “Oh, fuck, guys, Zuko’s going to love him. Worth every—” he checked his change and grinned, “uh, twenty-five thousand won.”

Sokka gave its cheek a kiss before hugging it to his chest and peace signing at the camera. “I’m gonna go! This was a short one but—you know, I’ve been super busy. Now that I’m more used to, uh, being alive, I guess, I’ll pop on more. It’s good to see you, or talking to you, I guess. Catch you later.”

(Zuko _loved it_ and refused to let the plush go all night, even when Sokka tried to insert himself into his arms instead. Sokka couldn’t make himself mind. He could never mind Zuko.)

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

There was never a moment that went by where Zuko was not completely enamored with Sokka. He was in love when Sokka stole his pillow and drooled on it; he was in love when Sokka knocked over his cereal as he talked with his hands; he was in love when Sokka snuck into his studio to scare him; he was in love when Sokka kissed his forehead when he thought Zuko was asleep; he was in love—all the time. Every second of every day.

However, there were times when Zuko felt, impossibly, even more in love. (To be fair: there was a chance that these moments were driven by a touch of lust, perhaps a _very heavy-handed_ touch of lust, but the fact remained.)

Seeing Sokka in a brocaded suit, wingtip shoes, a tie that he made sure _matched_ Zuko’s—that was a whole new fucking level. Sokka was smiling at one of Lu Ten’s favorite actresses, one hand in his pocket and the other holding a champagne glass; he was _born_ to look like this, to be seen like this, to exist in Zuko’s life exactly like this. He had slipped away from Zuko with a quiet “Wanna see me wingman?” and dragged Lu Ten over after they had both gotten tired of his unsubtle glances and nervous swallows and tie adjustments.

Sokka glanced his way and winked, and Zuko thought he knew how Lu Ten felt.

Zuko raised his eyebrow and set his own glass down on a passing waiter’s tray, walking away with purpose, ducking his head with a grin when he heard Sokka excuse himself and follow.

Zuko leaned against the hallway wall to wait, already blushing and unable to hide his smile when Sokka found him. “Hi, handsome.”

“Hey, stud,” Sokka said, and both of them laughed.

“Stupid,” Zuko grinned. “Give me a kiss.”

Sokka did, and Sokka kept on as they were passed, and Sokka kept on as they decided to find an empty room, and Sokka _kept on_ —

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

With a delighted laugh, Sokka swept Zuko into a kiss under the mistletoe in the doorway, using the opportunity to shove a reindeer eared headband onto his head. Though their eyes were closed, Sokka could _feel_ the energy that would be Zuko rolling his eyes, but he could also feel the energy that meant he would let Sokka do whatever he wanted.

“Wow,” Sokka said after pulling away. “This is a thing for me. Will you keep those on later?”

 _“Sokka!”_ Katara snapped, glaring at him from the living room. They were home for Christmas, surrounded by some of Sokka’s favorite people, in one of Sokka’s favorite places, for one of Sokka’s favorite holidays. It was one of the best Christmases he had ever had.

Zuko slapped his chest and wriggled out of his arms. “I’m revoking your Christmas gift.”

“No!” Sokka whined, grabbing him by his waist to give his cheek a sloppy kiss from behind. “I’ll behave!”

“You’re not behaving _now_ ,” Aang grinned, laughing when Sokka glowered.

Hakoda cleared his throat from the hallway, a few deliberate steps away from the door. “Could _everyone_ behave before we come in, please?”

Sokka laughed and took his usual place on the couch, pulling a blushing Zuko into his lap. Bato laughed when he saw, plopping down on the other end, and Hakoda yelped as he was pulled on to Bato’s lap to match.

“This is undignified,” he grumbled, but leaned onto him anyway.

“Early presents?” Katara asked, eagerly reaching for the packages Hakoda was holding.

“Early presents,” Hakoda confirmed, passing them around. Zuko looked shocked when he received his, looking between Sokka and Hakoda. “Welcome to the family, Zuko. I’m going to tell you now that it’s pajamas, and they’re embarrassing, and you’re obligated to wear them.”

They were pajamas, they were embarrassing, and Zuko cried as he changed in Sokka’s childhood bedroom, crying harder as Sokka tucked him close.

“Told you they’d love you,” Sokka whispered.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Suki and Yue’s wedding coincided with the most beautiful summer day that Boston had ever seen. The sun seemed to shine only for them, just as the flowers bloomed, the birds sang, the world turned. They were perfect brides who had eyes only for each other—Zuko doubted that they looked away from each other for even a split second the entire day, from the moment they saw each other at the ceremony to the moment they said goodbye to everyone after the reception.

Zuko had never felt this way: a peculiar mix of joy and envy and light and heavy and like he was basking in the sunshine and moonlight at the same time, both of which were glinting from the altar. He knew it would be much more _distinct_ and much less peculiar if Sokka hadn’t been the one officiating. If he had been watching with Sokka at his side, hand in hand, Zuko knew _exactly_ what he would have felt, and he wasn’t sure either of them was ready for that.

But he was hand in hand with Sokka as the reception wound down, taking advantage of the dwindling crowd to top off their drinks and diminish the leftover catering. Zuko’s legs were casually draped over Sokka’s lap, and Sokka held his ankle like an anchor. Zuko had never felt steadier or more exhilarated. Taking another sip of his cocktail, he looked at his beautiful boy. “Dance with me?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Sokka said immediately, pushing Zuko’s legs off as he stood and held out his hand.

Zuko laughed, taking it. “I’ve asked all night, and you’ve danced every time.”

“Thought you’d never ask again,” Sokka corrected, leading him onto the dance floor. For all the professional training and experience Zuko had, he loved when Sokka led, and he maneuvered himself into a clear following position with a grin.

After only half of one slow song, Zuko knew beyond all shadow of a doubt that he wanted to be in Sokka’s arms forever. Looking into Sokka’s blue eyes, he _knew_ he felt the same thing.

Their kiss was a promise.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

There was barely a discussion when Sokka’s lease ended a year after his move to Seoul.

“It’s a shorter commute to your work,” Zuko reasoned.

“It’s a shorter commute to your bed,” Sokka countered.

He and Puck practically already lived at the Soolong house by then. Puck’s favorite pillow moved from bedroom to bedroom as the boys tried to bribe him to pick a favorite uncle, and the vast majority of Sokka’s wardrobe had found a place in Zuko’s already-packed closet. Sokka had realized he didn’t even have a toothbrush at his own apartment—a realization upon which he said “Huh!” and went back to the Soolong house to stay another week.

It took no effort at all to give away the minimal furniture in Sokka’s apartment, and even less effort to move the rest of his things to the house, and Sokka started waking up _every day_ to Zuko’s smile, or, more often than not, Zuko’s lips parted in slumber after a long night at the studio or embracing the fact that, unlike _Sokka_ , he could sleep past sunrise without being late to work.

The guys were thrilled to have a full-time dog, and Puck was thrilled to have even more full-time attention. He always ended up snuggling with his dads, either lounging at the bottom of the bed or forcing himself in between them, where he was always met with welcoming arms.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Puck had a long memory, and he remembered when it was not like this.

Puck had a trusting heart, and he knew it would never be like that again.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

VLIVE - now  
Soolong: Surprise LIVE! We’re Bored! 🦁 🐲 🐶

“Hi, hello, hi,” Tomkin said lazily, reading through the every-faster chat as more and more live viewers rolled in, tilting his phone to either side so they could see his company. “We’ve got Lu Ten! We’ve got Zuko! And best of all, we’ve got your host, Tomkin supreme.”

Lu Ten leaned on Tomkin’s shoulder from one side of the bed and gave the audience a wave. “We’re in Germany and were thinking about going out but it’s _pouring_ and—”

“Our baby is sick,” Tomkin pouted.

“Our baby is sick,” Lu Ten confirmed.

Zuko, red-nosed and miserable, leaned in from Tomkin’s other side. “I’m sick.”

“So we’re keeping him company,” Lu Ten grinned. “He gets mopey and he was already mopey to begin with.”

“I was not!” Zuko’s voice was nasally. “And it’s just sinuses, you two just want to pester me.”

“Someone has to.” Tomkin grinned and looped an arm around his shoulders. 

“We don’t have anything planned for today, just thought we could hop on instead of sitting around doing nothing.” Lu Ten took Tomkin’s phone to look through the chat, though, as always, he could barely read the first letter of a message before it was replaced by another.

“I _wasn’t_ doing nothing,” Zuko whined. “I was going to call Sokka.”

Tomkin laughed and pinched Zuko’s cheek, Zuko’s trying weakly to bat his hand away. “It’s four in Seoul, babe, let your boy sleep for once.”

“Don’t insinuate.” Zuko sighed and leaned back on the pillows, accepting his fate. “What are you guys up to?” he asked the chat, begrudgingly grateful for the distraction from Sokka’s absence.

Tomkin gasped at the camera, smiling brightly. “Oh! And are you going to a show? I wanna know who we’re gonna see!”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Toph’s birthday fell in the middle of Soolong’s three month long world tour, and Sokka had all but begged her to visit him in Seoul. He tried to not admit it to Zuko too much, but he _missed_ him, with all of his being. Their bed ( _their bed_ ) was cold, even with Puck taking up ninety percent of the space; their room ( _their room_ ) was quiet, even with a constant string of Sokka’s coworker friends; their lives ( _their lives_ ) felt separate, because they _were_ and both of them _knew_ that they were before this even really began, but they had been practically conjoined for so long that it was difficult, if not impossible, to readjust.

Toph, as always, was the best of the best, and flew from the Appalachian mountains of Kentucky all the way to the bright city lights of Seoul.

“ _UGH!_ ” she had yelled at him as soon as she heard him in the airport. “That _sucked_. I’m never flying again. I’m walking back.”

Sokka laughed and hugged her tightly, neither of them pretending to not want it. “From Korea? That’s a lot of underwater walking, you know?”

“I can hold my breath a really long time.” She pulled back and slugged his arm. “It’s my birthday, I wanna get drunk.”

“I got the grossest soju I could find and the fanciest glasses to drink it from, let’s go fuck it up.”

They fucked it up the next day, after Toph had slept off the flight and nausea and got used to being on her feet again. She ended up half-buried in Puck’s silky fur (Toklo had discovered _dog conditioner_ and they hadn’t looked back since) hiccuping every ten seconds, Sokka splayed out on the couch but somehow with all but one limb touching the floor.

“Blech. The lemon one fucking sucks,” Toph said, taking another sip straight from the bottle.

Sokka hummed and took a sip of his own. “Blueberry’s worse. Trade?”

She hummed and held out her bottle, allowing him to make the switch. “Sokka?”

“Sup?” he asked, taking a sip of lemon. “Oh, _gross_ , this _is_ worse.” He took another sip, just to make sure.

“I think I don’t want to be in love.” She scritched Puck just the way he liked, his tail thumping lazily against the floor.

Sokka blinked and sat up. “Are you?”

“No. I’m just saying. I don’t really want to.”

“Huh,” he said, laying back down and stretching out. “Don’t be, then.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, like it was sage advice. At their stage of tipsy, it really was. “Thanks, Sokka.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Predictably, Katara had flown through the ranks of the prestigious Seattle law firm that had hired her after she passed the bar, to the point where her success rate and work ethic had earned her a partnership spot in their new branch in one of the city’s smaller suburbs. As soon as they heard the news, she and Aang started house shopping. And as soon as they heard back from the realtor, she and Aang sent out housewarming invitations. As soon as their friends saw the invitations, every single one sent back an enthusiastic confirmation.

Aang and Katara, Suki and Yue, Sokka and Zuko, and Toph spent the night reveling in the joy of being _together_ in a way they hadn’t been in just shy of a year. They gorged themselves on cheap pizza and expensive beer and conversations they had before and those they hadn’t. They slept on the living room floor on a mess of blankets and pillows, limbs over indiscriminate limbs. 

Sokka and Zuko met each other’s eyes in the dark, holding each other under one of the blankets that used to hang over Sokka’s couch in Boston. It was a beautiful night with beautiful people, spent talking about beautiful houses and beautiful paint colors, dreaming about beautiful futures and beautiful lives. Laying there in the dark, they knew they were thinking the same thing. They knew what they wanted.

Sokka and Zuko took advantage of the trip to stay with Hakoda and Bato, who Zuko had, incredibly, grown close to over text, bonding over their love for stories about Sokka being stupid, often trading embarrassing baby pictures for embarrassing current pictures, much to Sokka’s put-upon chagrin. Sokka’s dads greeted them both with warm hugs and Sokka’s favorite home cooked meal and a promise to find that high school graduation picture for Zuko to take home (“You talk that much?” Sokka had asked, aghast).

Though Sokka had given Zuko a thorough tour of his home town (consisting mainly of which parking lots are good to make out in and which parking lots he had made out in and which parking lots he wanted Zuko to make out with him instead to replace the memory), they took advantage of the more temperate weather to explore a little further.

Zuko laced their fingers together as they walked, the path well-kept and beautiful, with plenty of flowers and rose bushes and dogwood trees. He let go of Sokka’s hand as they approached, taking a deep breath before kneeling in front of the stone.

“Hi, Kya,” he said. “I’m Zuko. Sokka’s told me a lot about you.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Sokka had successfully dragged Zuko out of the studio one Saturday with the begging complaints that it was _beautiful_ outside and Puck was whining for a _walk_ and he wanted to get _chaltteok_ with his _boyfriend_. 

Puck had been delighted to have a two-dad adventure and his tail barely stopped wagging, only pausing once to eye a suspicious Yorkie across the street. Occupied with Puck’s leash in one hand and Sokka’s hand in his other, Zuko opened his mouth for Sokka to give him a bite of rice cake when he saw it—a for-sale sign on the house next door, still being hung on the gate by the realtor.

They looked at each other slowly, Puck looking over his shoulder to figure out why they had stopped.

“Excuse me,” Sokka said in practiced Korean. “We’d like to make an offer.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

TeaTime with Soolong! Ep.219 - WITH SPECIAL GUEST SOKKA!  
Live: 8,183,476

“Hi, everyone!” Lu Ten said, grinning at the camera as the red recording light blinked on. “Welcome to—”

“TEATIME!” the group yelled in unison. Lu Ten opened his arms to welcome the distant audience, Toklo poked his dimples, Zuko held finger hearts in front of his cheeks, Tomkin framed his face with an angled L under his chin, Lee punched the air, and Sokka popped in from the side, blowing a kiss.

“So,” Lu Ten continued. “Zuko and Sokka already posted on Instagram and everything so it’s not a secret, but for today’s TeaTime, we’re celebrating their new house!”

“ _And_ ,” Tomkin added with a pout, “mourning them leaving us behind.”

Zuko laughed and shoved his shoulder. “We live literally next door, don’t be dramatic.”

“We metaphorically live a million miles apart, now. My heart _aches_ at the thought—”

Toklo rolled his eyes and interrupted, tucking Tomkin in a loving headlock. “The point is, it’s a new house with no furniture in it yet and it’s time for a karaoke dance practice.”

As always, the audience ate Sokka up. He was a still-novel, rare addition to TeaTime and to Soolong content in general, and his interactions with Zuko always took Twitter by storm. He was integrated fully into their personal lives, but tended to shy away from their group work—he said it was so he didn’t replace Lee (“What the _fuck_ , Sokka, fuck you!”) but the idol life was something he wasn’t entirely suited for. He loved when Zuko got attention, and even loved when _he_ and Zuko got attention, but it took a certain kind of person to live fully in that spotlight and he had determined that he was not that kind. However, the occasional stardom was really, _really_ fun.

He had looked up someone who was a dick to him in high school once and saw that he liked Soolong. He hoped the asshole saw him now.

“Okay!” Sokka yelled after TeaTime wrapped up. “Time for you guys to get out so we can—”

“ _NO_ ,” a mix of three voices yelled, and Zuko went red.

“—eat dinner and go to sleep. Go!” He showed them out with a bright grin and a pointed turn of the lock and looked at Zuko. It didn’t matter how many times he looked at him; he could never look at anything else, and Zuko would still always be the most beautiful thing in the world, the one thing that filled him to the brim with contentedness and love, the one he couldn’t wait to come home to— _their_ home, all theirs—every day for the rest of his life.

“Hey.” Zuko grinned at him, walking backwards into the bedroom.

Sokka didn’t need more invitation than that.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

January in Boston was _hell,_ but it was also where Sokka felt the most alive. He had missed the biting cold on his face, the constant ache in his previously-broken left arm, the need for layers upon layers to never even get warm. Well, maybe he didn’t miss it. But the idea of missing it was getting him through trudging familiar streets in a foot of snow, walking to the former best job in the world for at least a little bit of warmth in the sunless afternoon.

The bell chimed above his head and the owner greeted him with a bright smile and familiar wave, one that Sokka returned enthusiastically, pulling half over the counter into a crushing hug.

It was a slow day and the shop was less than half full, though business had continued to boom even after famous-by-proxy Sokka had left. He sat at his favorite table near the back, holding his hot Americano in his hands gratefully, and glanced up as the door chimed again, grinning toothily at his drink. The customer greeted the owner, ordered, paid, collected, and made his way to Sokka’s table.

“Excuse me,” Zuko said, like a polite stranger. “Is this seat taken?”

Their concert that night was sold out, as they always were; they hadn’t had an unpacked house in four years. With Zuko in Sokka’s Bruins beanie and a thick nondescript coat, they managed to stay unspotted even as the shop filled up with a crowd that would make their way to the nearby arena in a few hours. It was only when they got to the door that someone yelled, “Oh my _God_ , is that _Zuko_?”

Sokka laughed at the bashful smile Zuko shot at him and tugged his ear, throwing his arm around Zuko’s shoulders and turning them around. “The one and only! We have to leave in a second so take pics quick.” The astounded crowd obeyed and phones went up immediately, snapping as many pictures and videos as they could. “We met here, you know?”

Zuko grinned and leaned into Sokka’s side. “We did. Completely by accident.” He looked at a cooing fan nearby and laughed. “We already knew each other but—we hadn’t planned on really meeting until that night after the concert. Even if I hadn’t known who he was, I would have fallen in love _immediately_. He was the hottest barista in the world, can you imagine?”

They left the crowd laughing and smiling and, without a doubt, sending picture proof of their encounter to every friend they had ever met. Sokka left him in the rest of Soolong’s care with a too-long kiss and a saucy wink at their booing audience before venturing back outside.

“Hey!” Sokka said as he answered his phone. “Where are you? I can meet you somewhere. You do _not_ want to go through security for five hours, trust me.”

From the center stage section he always sat in when he went to Soolong concerts, he could spot the exact moment when Zuko realized Hakoda and Bato were sitting by Sokka’s side. They all tried their best to look distinctly horrified at Zuko’s hip thrusts in Sokka’s general direction, but as soon Zuko saw them and ran farther down the stage in an attempt to shake his horror, they started laughing, and _kept_ laughing until they thought they would throw up or that the girls in front of them would do more than just throw them angry glances over their shoulders.

Zuko’s horror returned all over again when Sokka guided Hakoda and Bato backstage. Sokka cracked up once more, slapping Zuko on the back and running off to find a phone charger.

“Uh,” Zuko said, red-faced and dry-mouthed.

“Impressive performance out there, son,” Hakoda said, crossing his arms.

Bato nodded. “A real eye-opener.”

“I didn’t know you were in Boston. I—uh, I’ve been meaning to call you but I really wish you hadn’t seen—”

Hakoda broke his serious expression to grin and ruffle Zuko’s hair. “My intern makes me watch videos of you all the time, kid, stop worrying. She’s the worst intern but she makes the best coffee so we keep her around.” She had been an intern for three years and counting, but she refused to change her title to office manager just for the hell of it.

“You’ve been meaning to call us?” Bato asked, reaching over to ruffle Zuko’s hair a second time, laughing as he dodged.

“Yeah,” Zuko said, taking a deep breath and trying to stand taller than he was. “I need to ask you something.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

As soon as Zuko’s production team told them what kind of shoot they’d be doing, he _knew_ he was in trouble.

“And all of them are adoptable!” Lu Ten smiled at the camera, holding up the little labrador mix he had in his arms.

Zuko stared at the black cat they had shoved in his arms two hours ago. He had not put him down since. They had matching eyes. “Not all of them,” he heard himself saying.

“ _No!_ ” Toklo groaned, handing a handful of won to a cackling Lee.

Zuko looked into the cat’s soul and the cat looked into his. “You’re going home with me, Druk.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

“Have you thought about kids?” Zuko asked abruptly one morning, both of them still in pajamas with bedhead and cups of coffee in hand.

Sokka blinked at him, surprised. “What? Like, theoretically or—”

“Like—having them. Children. Have you thought about it?” Zuko fought to keep a neutral expression on his face, and hide what he couldn’t with a long sip.

Sokka stared at him for a long moment. “I’ve thought about it.”

The soft smile on Sokka’s face evolved slowly and distinctly into a grin, blue eyes glinting bright and saying exactly what Zuko had hoped they would.

Zuko grinned back and averted his eyes, taking another sip to hide his smile.

Not for a while. But someday.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

“Have you thought about marriage?” Sokka asked abruptly one evening, on his four-year anniversary of living in Seoul. They were lounging on the balcony attached to their bedroom, with Puck sunbathing in his favorite spot on the ground and Druk sunbathing in his favorite spot on top of Puck.

Zuko was silent for a long moment. “I’ve thought about it. Have you?”

“I’ve thought about it,” Sokka grinned, not looking at him.

Zuko thought about the elegant silver ring in the blue velvet box hidden safely, carefully, in the pocket of Sokka’s least favorite of Zuko’s suit jackets.

Someday. Soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ as always tomkin belongs to [hella1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella1975/pseuds/hella1975), toklo belongs to [muffinlance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance), edits belong to [nettlewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nettlewine/pseuds/nettlewine)  
> ✩ follow me on tumblr @ kouje if u want to  
> ✩ thank u for reading and i will see you one final time tomorrow and lmao bitch im crying!!!!!! im crying i love u guys


	25. twenty-five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ yall knew it was coming.  
> ✩ [blueberry eyes lyric video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R4hrbAGF5A8&ab_channel=MAX-Topic) (which i recommend for this purpose) // [blueberry eyes MV](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TzFRVk2ektI&ab_channel=MAXVEVO) (which i recommend for all other purposes bc its CUTE)

Sokka and Zuko were both dressed in blue silk suits, shining under the gentle set lights as Sokka stared at the prop food with blatant want.

“You’re sure we can’t eat this?” he asked, glancing up at Zuko.

Zuko grinned, right eye crinkling. “I’m sure. Half of it’s plastic and the other half is _cold_. You have to know it wouldn’t taste good.”

“But the _temptation_ —”

The director interrupted him from behind the cameras and Zuko laughed, kicking at him under the table. “Look hot.”

Sokka snorted indignantly. “I’m always hot!” But he straightened up and adjusted his collar, trying his best to not crack up as they maintained eye contact. The director called the take number and signalled action and Sokka watched Zuko sing at him. The music would, of course, be dubbed over later, but hearing Zuko’s voice, looking into his eyes, knowing Zuko put his heart on his sleeve as he wrote this song for _him_ —it was a lot to handle in the very best way.

“Good, good!” the director called when it was over. “Okay, you two get touched up while we prep the next set.”

Zuko nodded and stood, holding out his hand with a dramatic bow. Sokka rolled his eyes but took it anyway, standing with Zuko’s guidance and putting a strong arm around his waist. He’d found a recreational hockey team a few months ago and was regaining his youthful strength. Zuko… did not mind.

“How long is this gonna take?”

“Uh—” Zuko leaned onto his shoulder before sitting in a chair to be fawned over by the makeup team. “It shouldn’t be more than a few hours. We have to do the last scene when the sun’s starting to set, so hopefully before then.”

Sokka nodded and smiled at the hairdresser who made the most minor adjustments that always made him look _good_. “Can we get dinner after? Bloating, blah blah blah, I’m _starving_.”

Zuko laughed. “Yeah, of course. Maybe the place you like?”

“The super fancy one? Hell yeah. Can we get in?”

“Yeah, babe.” That was never a problem for Soolong. And it would especially not be a problem this time, since Zuko had made reservations as soon as they set the filming date. “We can get in.”

“ _Nice_.” Sokka pumped his fist, giving the woman applying powder to his nose an apologetic grin.

“Ready when you are!”

They both hopped up and headed to the new set, perfectly designed and put together even in such a short time. Sokka’s job was easy: look at Zuko, keep looking at Zuko, smile at Zuko only when directed, be in love with Zuko. There was nothing he’d rather do than be in love with Zuko. There was nothing he was better at.

They ran through that scene and the next and the next smoothly, with less than ten takes for each. It was a relatively simple MV and, other than a cliche, _very_ cute waltz scene, Sokka’s job was just to _look_ , but he still felt like a successful, bonafide actor every time a take was called perfect.

Zuko held his hand as they made their way outside to shoot the last scene. Sokka’s job was easy in this one, too: look at Zuko, keep looking at Zuko, smile at Zuko only when directed, be in love with Zuko, and walk a little bit. He could do walking.

He was directed to walk across a bridge with the sun setting beautifully in the background, Zuko at his side as they looked out at the gentle creek below. When Sokka didn’t feel Zuko beside him, he turned to laugh at the missed cue, but his breath caught in his throat as he looked at Zuko in front of him, looking up at Sokka, down on one knee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩ as always tomkin belongs to [hella1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella1975/pseuds/hella1975), toklo belongs to [muffinlance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance), coerced edits belong to [nettlewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nettlewine/pseuds/nettlewine)  
> ✩ blueberry eyes is officially complete and i really truly hope that u guys enjoyed it  
> ✩ as you might have already noticed i’ve made it part of a series, and i’ll be posting short one-shots in [stay gold](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27982497/chapters/68538186). theres no posting schedule for that but hopefully i’ll be able to get a few more up relatively soon just for the hell of it  
> ✩ thank you all for sticking with me and for ur kind comments and support and love and UGH i love it, i’ve had a really great time writing this boy and its largely bc yall are wonderful  
> ✩ again: THANK YOU and thank you for putting up with a short finale, but its all that ive envisioned for it since it began. i have a ton of brainstorm from the past month and the first one is “there is no conflict.” and shortly after is “oh shit lmao end scene is them filming blueberry eyes, sokka turns around, zuko is on one knee”  
> ✩ i keep searching for more things i can put in the notes because ik its my last time writing them for this but i gotta learn from myself and accept brevity even tho ive already failed at that. cowboy in love @ all of u


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